The Falcon
by RixxiSpooks
Summary: Arthur decides to go cliff climbing; not a great idea in Merlin's book.
1. The Fall

**Disclaimer: I do not own BBC Merlin or any of its characters, unfortunately. If I did I'd be ridiculously happy!**

**This story came to me whilst reading _The Crystal Cave _by Mary Stewart. I liked her ideas. **

Azure was the best way to describe the sky; a crisp, sharp outline surrounding the slate grey mountains, emphasising their snow-crested peaks. Sprawling at their foot were pastures so green and luscious they didn't seem real as they merged seamlessly with a forest of evergreen trees. This was nature at its best. There was little interference from man and therefore it was perfect.

A little farther than the forest was a river that had started out as a stream in the depths of the ragged mountains but had widened the further into the lowland it went. The flowing water was lined on one side with a towering cliff face of limestone and the other, a beach scattered with shingles. The endless current of water twisted sinuously between the rolling hills and away.

The focus of this story, however, was at the river's edge where two boys were standing: one skimming stones, a scowl on his face, the other watching disinterestedly. Both carried out their activities in complete silence until:

"I told you we should have gone the other way," the dark-haired boy, observed, somewhat amused.

"You tell me now," was the gruff retort.

"No, I told you then but you ignored me. What exactly did you say again? Oh yeah, 'Shut up, Merlin, I know where we are going.'" His imitation was pitch perfect – uncanny.

"I was sure this was the way to the beach." The boy threw a smooth pebble with all his might, jaw jutted in irritation.

"Well, obviously its not so can we go back now?" Merlin's eyebrows rose in question.

"I guess."

"All right then, let's go."

The younger boy ran a tired hand through his black hair, leaving it in complete disarray. He didn't care; he was past caring. They had trekked all day to get to this so called fabulous beach and then had ended up on the wrong side of the river. Merlin wasn't sure what Arthur had meant by seeing what he meant when they got there but he was sure he hadn't meant it literally. Now he could tell the young prince was in a mood.

Picking up his bag and Arthur's, Merlin swung both on his back and began tramping up the bank.

"Oh, Merlin, I'm not walking all the way round _again_, it would be so much quicker just to climb the cliff. It's not big so it wouldn't be too hard."

The servant boy turned round to face his master, an incredulous expression contorting his features. He had the look of 'are you serious' in his eyes. Arthur could tell when he was trying to bite back a scathing comment because his abnormally large ears twitched with frustration. That's what always happened. Still, whatever Merlin thought, Arthur wasn't going to change his mind.

"I'm really, _really_, hoping you are joking," the youth said.

"I'm not. Come on." Arthur offered the stunned boy a dazzling grin and set off at a run towards the steep cliff. The closer he got the more vertical it became and Arthur considered the fact that he may have bitten off more than he could chew; he wasn't going to admit that to Merlin though. As he decided on the best place to begin his ascent, Arthur felt a warm presence by his right shoulder and knew his servant had joined him. There wasn't much else he could do; Merlin was bound to him both as a body guard and as a friend.

Getting a firm grip on the craggy face Arthur began to climb. Merlin shook his head, he could tell this a bad idea; in fact he could feel it within his bones that the only way this little detour could end was disastrously. Nonetheless, he was destined to be with Arthur and if that meant risking his neck to keep the idiotic prince safe he would do it. They were two halves of a coin after all.

* * *

The pair were half way up when things began to take a turn for the worse. Arthur wasn't bad at climbing but even he could see that the rock was getting past the point of being vertical, it was slanting, and becoming increasingly impossible to find a hand holds on. He was contemplating the idea of admitting his wrongness to his servant when his fingers slipped from the ledge they had been gripping and he fell…

But Merlin was there to catch him. Somehow the seemingly weedy servant boy mustered enough strength to hold onto the wall with one hand and support Arthur with the other. How long he could maintain such a precarious position, however, was an entirely different problem.

"Grab something Arthur! I can't take your weight!" Merlin grunted his voice strained with effort. It felt like his shoulder was breaking. He wondered whether there was some spell he could use to help the situation but nothing came to mind.

"I'm trying!" Arthur snapped back, he was suddenly having flashbacks of hanging off a cave wall whilst being chased by giant spiders; it was not aiding his plight. Finally, his floundering arm managed to grip a rocky outcrop and once again the prince could support himself. He paused to regain his breath.

"Merlin! Thanks! I-Merlin?" The young man was aware of complete and utter silence – it was disturbing. Why wasn't his servant speaking? He thought the boy would've already come up with some sarcastic, totally inappropriate comment by now. Craning his neck, Arthur looked down. Merlin had vanished.

* * *

Merlin had no idea where he was. He just remembered how he had lost his grip and then the sensation of falling through space. His stomach turned at the memory. But then he had appeared here….on this ledge. Peering down he saw just how high up he was and a wave of vertigo washed over him; the ground looked so far away. Still, by the looks of things he was still on the same cliff face but in a completely different area. So how had he got here? Magic? Had he unconsciously used some kind of spell to save himself? But where was Arthur?

The young magician shifted slightly on the narrow ledge and froze, beneath where he had been about to put his left hand was a nest. A bird's nest. And sitting in the nest were four rust-brown coloured eggs. They were small in size but perfectly formed. The boy stared. He recognised the type. These were the un-hatched offspring of a _Falco columbarius. _Or, in more understandable terms….a merlin. This species of bird was not particularly common but was most often seen in captivity, in falconry displays. Merlin had never seen a merlin in the wild let alone their nesting place. Then again, he barely ever climbed cliffs in the middle of nowhere.

He wondered where the mother of these chicks was, usually the female merlin remained whilst the male hunted for her but this nest was deserted. The boy was reluctant to touch the eggs but he just had to see whether they were still warm. With a delicate touch of the tip of his finger he determined they were. They couldn't have been left for long.

Well, he thought, he better leave them be, it was nothing to do with him. Instead, he should really think of a way to get down from here. In fact, if his ears were not deceiving him, he could hear frantic yelling above his head.

"Merlin? Merlin! Where the hell are you? Merlin!"

Twisting awkwardly, Merlin looked up. "Down here!" He shouted and then the bird attacked.

But it wasn't a merlin and it wasn't attacking him though the wild falcons were well known for their aggressiveness. The bird was huge and black and ugly looking. Its massive talons made straight for the unguarded nest by his side crushing the eggs.

"Hey!" Merlin yelped, waving his arms at the ferocious creature. "Get away! Shoo! Get away you beast!" The corvid, for that was its name, flapped its great wings, cawing loudly. Obviously it hadn't expected anything to challenge it. With an evil glare from its beady black eyes the bird turned tail and fled. Merlin scanned the ravished nest. It was all but demolished, obliterated by the intruder. Twigs and feathers floated gently over the edge of the ledge, whipped up by the gentle breeze whilst shards of shell remained in the devastation.

It saddened the boy greatly that those four unborn chicks would never be hatched but there was nothing he could have done. Then he noticed the last egg. It had slipped onto the hard rock and miraculously hadn't cracked. It had survived. He carefully reached down and scooped the tiny egg up. Warmth seeped into his palm.

"Merlin! Is that you?" The voice was much closer this time and as Merlin looked up he saw Arthur's somewhat distressed face peering down at him. Fortunately he wasn't too far up so the cliff top couldn't be far away. "Well come on, don't just sit there you, idiot, climb up!"

Merlin slipped the merlin egg into his bag, padding it out with his jerkin so it wouldn't break. Then he slowly levered himself to his feet, gripping the rock tightly, before making his ascent. Arthur hauled him over the edge when he reached the end of his climb.

"How on earth did you get there?!" the prince demanded as soon as he had clambered to his feet.

"Um…I fell?" Merlin suggested. He carefully removed the unborn merlin from his bag and clutched it carefully in his palm.

"What is _that_?"

"A bird's egg," Merlin raised his eyebrows.

"Great, so while I've been worried sick…" Arthur paused and corrected himself, "…_worried_, you've been _bird _watching! I sometimes wonder about you, Merlin."

"This is a merlin."

"Sure it is, and that rock's called Arthur. Let's go." The young man grabbed his friend's arm and marched off.

**What do you think? Review! **


	2. The Fight

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything except my laptop! Whoop!**

**Thanks to Taigh, Hogaboom, you-shall-never-know-me and Spirited.Karma for their kind reviews. Hope you enjoy this chapter though I don't believe it to be quite as good. Feed me with comments and cookies!**

"It is like fate led me to that ledge."

"You know, Merlin, you are talking a load of rubbish."

Arthur stepped into the castle hallway, shaking water from his hair. The weather was horrendous, torrents of rain poured down on Camelot, obscuring practically everything with its density. Walking through it was like taking an ice cold bath over and over again. The two boys had been drenched on the last leg of their journey and as a result were freezing. Arthur's fingers were numb and his hands had turned purple with such a low temperature. Merlin's teeth just chattered.

"I am not talking rubbish!" the young warlock replied, sounding wounded, "I landed on that ledge for a purpose and that was to save this baby bird. This merlin." He didn't bother mentioning that his magic had caused him to land there rather than the fall.

"Yeah, you keep calling it a merlin but it's just an egg, how on earth can you tell?" Arthur asked, unimpressed. With a flurry of movement he plucked the said object from his servant's hands and inspected it. "Just looks like a plain old egg to me. What are you planning to do with it anyway, hatch it?"

"As a matter of fact, yes!" Merlin snapped, leaning over to snatch it back. However Arthur yanked it out of his grasp causing him to pitch forward onto the wet stone beneath their sodden boots. "Arthur! This is no time for jokes, give it back."

"Ha, I don't think so; maybe I'll have it for breakfast." The young prince held the egg between his thumb and forefinger as if urging Merlin to take it. The servant boy growled and leapt, intending to tackle Arthur and get his prized possession. Arthur had not been expecting to invoke such a reaction in his friend and dropped the egg in surprise. Merlin yelped.

Quick as a flash the sorcerer was on the floor, cupping the rusty brown thing in one half-curled, outstretched palm. Arthur boggled. He hadn't even seen the boy move that fast when it was time for dinner. The movement had almost been too swift for the eye to see. Perturbed, the king's son watched as Merlin clambered to his feet, shot him a dirty look and then marched off down the corridor.

"Hey, Merlin, you aren't finished with your duties yet. I need someone to fetch me some hot water for a bath. Merlin?!"

"Get someone else to do it," the servant snapped back, his voice laced with unfamiliar venom. Arthur was about to order him back but then realised just how much he had upset the young man; Merlin never got angry but somehow Arthur had made him so. Holding his tongue, Arthur trod heavily after the retreating form of his manservant.

* * *

The physician's room was warm, filled with the smells of the herbs and minerals that lined the shelves along the wall. This array seemed disorderly and random but in actual fact was meticulously organised by Gaius in a way that Merlin could never hope to understand; there was no logic that he could see to the ensemble. Still, the castle doctor always knew exactly where everything was when he was in need of it.

Hanging from the wall were a few burning torches mounted on brackets that cast orangey pools of light into the centre of the room. Their illumination highlighted just how many papers and books littered every surface so much so that the eye could not take in every single little detail at once; there was just too much to observe.

With one sweep of the space, after he pushed open the creaky door, Merlin knew that the chamber was deserted. He pondered for a second as to where Gaius could be but then forgot about him as he hurried forward in search of a place to keep his egg. Eventually, Merlin nestled the un-hatched merlin in an empty box lined with old scraps of paper and cloth and placed a lamp beside it hoping the warm glow of the candle would help the bird to survive. He remembered reading somewhere that eggs needed a lot of heat to hatch. Once this was done he set about preparing his dinner.

The young warlock was ridiculously angry, he hadn't consciously realised this fact until he saw that his hands were shaking with every task he performed and his entire body was tense. Inside his head was a whirlpool of emotions: mainly anger but disappointment, betrayal and annoyance. He knew Arthur could be an idiot sometimes but this time he'd gone too far. It was in Merlin's nature to be kind, caring, forgiving but when he'd seen Arthur messing around with his egg and then _dropping _it with such callousness he'd seen red - a blinding scarlet that left him reeling even now.

There was something about the egg that invoked such feelings. He just knew that it _was _fate that meant he found those eggs and saved one in particular from that corvid. He was supposed to save it, he was positive. And now he had to hatch it.

"Merlin? Merlin are you back?" Gaius' voice called.

"Yes. Over here, Gaius," Merlin answered from where he was standing behind the door, chopping some carrots.

"Ah, there you are. Had a good day?" The old man nodded, satisfied, and wandered over to his desk, taking a seat in the chair.

"Good and bad, I guess."

"Oh?"

"Well, bad because Arthur led us the wrong way and we never got to see the damn beach and….ouch!" Merlin yelped as the sharp knife tip sliced through his finger.

"Are you all right?"

"Fine," the young man said, sucking his finger, "Anyway...and good because I found an egg."

"An egg?"

"That's what I said wasn't it? Anyway, this egg…I think it belongs to a merlin."

"Wait, you didn't bring this poor unborn creature back with you did you, Merlin?" Gaius raised his eyebrows incredulously.

"Um…yes, but it's not what you think…"

"What do I think?"

"That I want it for a pet or that I just wanted to save something," the dark haired boy stated. "It's different, I could tell I was meant to pick the egg up and nurse it. I could feel it in my bones."

"Right, and you say it is a merlin?"

"Yes."

"How unusual…"

"I know."

"Well, it is highly unlikely the infant falcon will hatch now you have taken it from its nest but if you wish to be disappointed, be my guest. Just don't shirk your duties to care for a lost cause, all right?"

"Yes, Gaius, I won't and it's not a lost cause, I'm telling you."

* * *

And, as it turned out, Merlin was right. Five days after its discovery, the baby merlin got its first look at the world. Unfortunately there was no one there at the time except a very disgruntled Prince Arthur. The man had gained a laceration from a particularly nasty fall from his horse. He had come to the castle physician to get stitched up but neither he nor Merlin was in the chamber when he got there. So he just sat down to wait.

The first he saw of the bird, well heard, was a gentle tapping. To begin with he ignored to noise but as it grew more insistent he grew more annoyed until finally he noticed the rust brown egg. A small pinkish crack had formed on one side of the shell, contrasting with the coppery colour. Arthur stared. Another fissure appeared, joining the second in a jigsaw pattern. Suddenly there was an entire spider web of cracks spreading out fast from the epicentre. And then the beak appeared.

Intrigued, the prince edged closer to the box containing the egg and watched as the beak pecked away at some of the shell to reveal a beady eye that stared at him through the hole. The eye focussed on him a little longer as if assessing him. Arthur was reminded oddly of Merlin's intense look that made him feel as if he was being judged. This baby had the same gift.

Suddenly, with a sickening crunch that although quiet was still unsettling, like the sound of a bone being broken, the egg split right in two to reveal the hatchling within. To be honest, the newborn falcon wasn't the prettiest thing Arthur had ever seen, for some reason he had been expecting a fluffy little yellow chick like the ones he occasionally saw around the hen coop. Instead, he was long and gangly, with spindly wings and messy dark feathers that stuck out in random directions. These feathers were still damp from being in the egg with bits of shell stuck to them and had an odd dull sheen to them. His beak was hooked and looked rather fierce like it could take your finger off easily. And the eyes that Arthur had seen even before the infant left the egg were too large for his face, big and brown and alert. For some inexplicable reason the young man was reminded yet again of his faithful servant. It seemed right somehow that Merlin was named after such a creature.

Arthur was aware how harsh that sounded after the description he had given of the chick but he was sure that although he did not look like it, this infantile merlin would grow into a beautiful and brave falcon.

**Soooo...what do you think? Comments much appreciated! -have a Halloween cookie for your trouble (I know it is not there yet but they are already in shops!)-**


	3. The Naming

**Ok, so I'm aware some of you guys thought the last chapter was a bit OOC for both Merlin and Arthur because they were being so mean to each other so I'm sorry. **

**Thanks to ****Paula545****Hogaboom****Lady Clark-Weasley of Books****lnicol1990****xXStephRheaXx**** Siany-T and ****Glittery-excuse-for-a Fae**

"What does it eat?"

"According to the book: larks, pipits, sandpipers and house sparrows. Though it says it can also eat small mammals, reptiles and insects."

"So really it can eat anything?" Gwen asked, cradling the tiny animal in one hand. He was just so small and adorable if a little vicious; she'd had her fingers nipped more than she could remember.

"I guess so," Merlin nodded, scanning the rest of the page of the large volume. When he could find nothing more he slammed the heavy book shut and turned to watch Gwen and the baby falcon. His heart warmed just looking at the two of them. The handmaiden was perfectly at ease with the wild bird, coddling and playing with him. He would be one spoilt creature if the girl could get away with it. However, Merlin would not allow it. After all he didn't want the merlin turning into a bird version of Arthur.

That was a little mean, he supposed, the two boys had pretty much resolved their differences and were now back on good terms after the incident about a week ago. Arthur had very reluctantly sidled up to him one day in the Great Hall and apologised in the most low-key fashion possible. Merlin was impressed by his discretion. Still, that was Arthur and Merlin would just have to accept him like that. Besides, Gwen wasn't the only one enraptured by the newest member of the castle; Arthur seemed to have a soft spot for the animal having been present at his birth.

"So…what have you named him?"

"I haven't _named _him, Gwen, he's not a pet," Merlin chuckled as if she had said something ridiculously idiotic. The handmaiden's eyes hardened irritated by his superior attitude.

"Well," she said slowly, pronouncing every word with carefully hidden anger, "I think that such a cute little fellow should deserve a name, pet or not."

"What do you name a bird of prey? Thomas? Jevan? Flash-the-fastest-bird-ever?"

"Elsu," Gwen murmured.

"Why don't we just go the whole hog and call him Merlin…wait, what?" The young sorcerer had been working himself up into a rant and had to stop suddenly to catch what his friend had said.

"Elsu," Gwen repeated, seriously. Merlin considered it, rolling the sound on his tongue.

"Elsu," he paused again, "You know what, I like it."

"Me too."

"What does it mean?"

"I have no idea, I just read it somewhere," the girl shrugged, trying to hide her smile as she looked down at the little merlin she had just christened. He surveyed her with his striking eyes, so sharp they looked as if they could spear you with one gaze.

"Well, I better go in search of Elsu's breakfast, are you alright with him?"

"Yes, we'll be fine."

* * *

On his search out for food Merlin ran straight into Morgana who was hurrying in the other direction; they collided painful. The young servant was quick to apologise, his voice fast and anxious, as he watched the woman take a surprised step back and rub her head. She offered him a bemused smile as he fussed over her and assured him she was fine.

"Merlin, leave me be, it is nothing but a bump…"

"Arthur will kill me, you know that?" The warlock muttered more to himself than the Lady.

"He won't have to know. I doubt he will even notice for the King has returned from his business and we are all to celebrate. I suspect you will have a lot of jobs to do in the next few hours."  
"Great, that means I won't be able to get anything for Elsu," the young man frowned, his brow knotting with contemplation.

"Who is Elsu?" Morgana asked, intrigued.

"My falcon," Merlin replied.

"Oh, Gwen has been telling me all about him. He is apparently a sweetie?"

"I guess. Look, anyway, I'm so sorry Lady Morgana for running into you but I must go. I have a lot to do before Arthur finds me." And with that, the youth bid goodbye to his mistress and set off at a fast pace down the corridor, only just avoiding another crash with a messenger boy. Morgana chuckled to herself.

* * *

Arthur ran one long finger down the smooth back of the baby bird, feeling the downiness of his feathers. It was as if he was touching air it was so soft and supple. The animal shuddered at his touch, shaking all the way from his head to the tip of his tail in a sort of crazy, wiggling dance move. The prince smiled.

He had come to the physician's chambers to find Merlin so that he could help him prepare for his father's arrival back at Camelot but he had discovered that the boy was not there and Gwen was in his place. He told her of the King's imminent return and suggested she go help the other servants whilst he waited here for Merlin's return. This then led to his bird-sitting the falcon, not that he was complaining.

Elsu – for that was the name Gwen had just informed him of - had grown massively in the last few days. He'd lost the majority of his infantile fluff and was gaining sleek fine feathers the colour of copper. Speckled white under parts were also forming. He was turning into a very fine specimen of a merlin. In all honesty, to start with, Arthur had not believed Merlin when he told him that the immature bird was called a merlin, it seemed to unlikely and he wasn't even aware there was a bird called that. However, his manservant showed him the page of a huge book that did indeed have a merlin falcon in. It was a spooky coincidence.

_Bang_. The door crashed open, almost shaking the frame from its hinges. A blurred ball of energy cannoned into the room and almost tripped over a careless discarded chair. Once he'd stopped the dark haired boy looked sharply round the room and caught sight of Arthur, his eyes widening.

"Oh no, you found me," he sagged.

"I wasn't aware we were playing hide and seek. Though I'm glad to hear I won," Arthur smirked, turning back into his usually cheeky self. There was something about the bird that let his guard down but he couldn't let that happen in front of Merlin.

"The King has returned and I thought you would want me to, I dunno, do stuff…" The servant tailed off as he caught sight of his master's hand on Elsu, stroking his silky feathers. "Where's Gwen?"

"The bird ate her, unfortunately I was just too late to save her," the prince raised his eye brows mockingly.

"I-what…" Merlin paused, confused, shaking his head and then ruffling his hair with his hand to demonstrate his bemusement. Why was Arthur making such bad jokes? Why, in fact, was he in such a good mood?

"Merlin, what is up with you today?"

"What is up with me? What is up with you? I haven't seen you this happy since I fell off my horse and landed in a pile of manure."

Arthur grinned at the memory. It had been hilarious, a moment he wished he could record forever. The comical expression of astonishment on his servant's face had been priceless; that and the dung he had in his mouth.

"It's a good day," the blonde boy shrugged.

"All right then, I'm not complaining," Merlin shrugged, still looking somewhat perplexed. "Now, before I do anything for you, how do you fancy coming mouse hunting?"

**Trivia: On a random note, I came up with the name Elsu on a whim and then when I researched it on the internet I found out it meant _flying falcon,_ how creepy is that?**

**Please review!**


	4. The Lesson

**Thanks to ****Lady Clark-Weasley of Books**,**Hogaboom**,**Ikchen**,**xXStephRheaXx****, ****Glittery-excuse-for-a Fae**,**lnicol1990**,**salixshadow****, Siany-T and ****Paula545**!

Uther strode down the corridor with the air of someone who couldn't care less if anyone got in his way – he would mow them down. His scarlet cloak billowed out behind him like a huge rippling flag; it just served to increase his kingly appearance. As he turned the corner, his heavy footfalls echoing down the passage, he almost walked into something. This something was cloaked in royal Pendragon Red and had a crown of golden hair that glinted in the sun that shone through the window to his right. It took a second for the King to do a double take. What on earth was his son doing scuttling round on the dirty floor like a mere servant?

"Arthur!" he barked, his dark blue eyes cold. It satisfied him to see the boy jump and his shoulder's tense with apprehension before he rose off his haunches and turned round. There was an unreadable expression gracing his handsome features. "_What_ were you doing on the floor? It looked like you were servant boy cleaning the flag stones!"

"I-" the prince began but then seemed to catch himself, the words returning to the depths of his throat.

"Well? I am waiting for an explanation!"

"Arthur! I've got one! I bashed it on the head!"

Just at that moment a dark haired young man appeared at the other end of the walkway, his face full of triumph. In his grimy hands he held what seemed to be the carcass of a very dead mouse. The animal's paws hung limply, curled as if still mid-scurry. There was a bloody swelling on its furry head. However, the boy froze when he caught sight of Uther.

"Merlin!" The way the King drew out the 'er' made him sound even more ferocious and the young sorcerer found his knees shaking. He made an effort to stop them with a hand, probably not really helping matters. "What is the meaning of this?!"

"I-" the manservant unknowingly echoed his master's earlier response. He floundered like a fish.

"What is the mouse for?"

"We…..we were clearing the castle for mice. There are so many of the little pests everywhere," Arthur regained use of his tongue first and used the first excuse that popped into his head.

"I thought that was what the castle cats were for?" Uther was unconvinced. "Besides, what has that got to do with you? You were not a servant last time I checked, Arthur."

"I-I was just passing and Merlin asked me to help for a moment. I was about to go and practice my swordsmanship in the courtyard."

"Hmm…" the King was still not convinced as he looked from one boy to another; one dark one blonde, both with identical expressions of guilt plastered all over their faces. Uther decided to let it go – just this once. "Well, I hope you get rid of that vermin soon, boy." He gestured to the corpse that still hung from Merlin's fist. "And I hope you will get out into the courtyard. Now."

"Yes, sire!" The boys replied in unison, exchanging a startled look and hurried off in opposite directions. Once alone, Uther smiled to himself, amused, before marching forward.

* * *

The bird soared, silhouetted like some dark spirit against the blazing sun. Her wing span was enormous allowing her to float without difficulty on the warm currents of air that rose beneath her. In the light, her large eyes glinted with alertness, scanning the countryside beneath her for any sign of prey. Obviously she spied something as she plummeted suddenly in a vertical dive towards the ground. At the speed she was going she would surely crash head first into the earth and shatter her skull. But then, at the last second, she pulled out of the plunge and rocketed back into the sky, her prize hanging from its hooked beak.

The great bird was a Peregrine Falcon, a relative of the animal that Merlin currently had perched on his hand. Whilst the young man had watched the flight and magnificent dive of the Peregrine with awe the fledgling had been looking the other way, he was far more interested in staring at the beetles that were crawling on the stone beside them rather than his distant relative. Merlin could help but admit he was slightly peeved by the infant merlin's indifference. This was supposed to be his first training session, not meal time again!

"Elsu," Merlin said the bird's name but it ignored him. "Elsu!" The creature turned its small head in his direction and eyed him beadily as if to say 'yeah, what do you want?' The sorcerer lifted the immature animal up on an outstretched arm and then gestured for him to take flight. Elsu didn't move an inch.

"Having fun?" Arthur had joined him. It was several weeks since the mouse hunting incident and his father had allowed him to talk to Merlin once more without being crept up on.

"Heaps," the servant replied, bitterly.

"That bad?" Arthur smiled at his friend, a teasing look in his blue eyes.

"Yes. He won't even try to fly. Look." The boy jerked his arm again and the bird barely shifted, it ruffled its feathers slightly but that was it.

"Maybe he's not ready," the prince suggested.

"It said in the book that it took 29 days for an immature merlin to become flight-worthy."

"Well, maybe he's just a late bloomer, like someone else I know," Arthur said jokingly, clapping his frustrated manservant on the shoulder with a wry smile. He was somewhat surprised at just how bony Merlin was. The boy really needed to each more and gain some muscles.

"Was that a joke?" Merlin asked wearily, "Because it wasn't very funny."

"I thought it was." The older boy grinned at his servant but seeing his disheartenment decided to take drastic action. "Sometimes, Merlin," he began, "You just need to give someone a little _push _in the right direction." And with that statement the prince reached over the warlock's arm and pushed the preening falcon of his perch. There was a squeak of astonishment and, if it was possible for a bird to look startled, Elsu did as he fell in a very ungainly, inelegant fashion from Merlin's hand. Then he seemed to regain his senses and the merlin flapped his arrow shaped wings thrusting himself into the air.

"There you go 'sink or swim' or in Elsu's case 'fly or fall'." Arthur couldn't help but smirk at Merlin's gobsmacked look and Elsu's somehow disgusted expression - he didn't look like he could quite believe what his human carer had done.

"You could have killed him!"

"Oh, don't over exaggerate, Merlin, even if he hadn't bothered to get his lazy backside into gear he would've fallen a metre, if that."

Merlin looked from his friend and master up to his disgruntled bird in the sky and saw what Arthur meant. It was just a case of making Elsu need to fly rather than seeing if he fancied doing it on a whim. He couldn't be a proper falcon if he couldn't fly, he'd already led a pretty sheltered existence up until now, but flying was an essential he couldn't evade. Merlin couldn't see why he wouldn't want to fly anyway. It looked like such an exhilarating experience to soar through the sky like that Peregrine Falcon. He wished he had hollow bones and feathered wings.

However, Elsu did seem to be getting the hang of it, flapping his slate blue wings with gusto and darting this way and that. He was doing what came naturally to him. Soon the small fledgling had risen high up into the atmosphere, leaving his two humans far down on the earth below. They were specks compared to what he could see sprawled out in front of him like a never ending map. His was a bird's eye view.

The more Merlin wished he could witness exactly what the falcon was observing the more his body began to tingle. It was a strange sensation, like there was a cold hand peppering finger prints up his spine. He felt the hair on the nape of his neck rise. He began to experience of light headedness and weightlessness. And then it happened.

He was seeing exactly what his merlin was seeing through Elsu's own eyes.


	5. The Sight

**Thanks to Lady Clark-Weasley of Books, Glittery-excuse-for-a Fae, Siany–T, lnicol1990, Bramblerose4, Ikchen and Hogaboom**

Arthur started when there was a sudden movement to his left, turning just in time to see his manservant falling, hard, on the earthy ground. His head made a sickening crack as it struck a rock. With anxious eyes, the prince dived to the boy's side, turning him over and attempting to shake him awake. There was no response. Quickly, Arthur felt for a pulse on his friend's neck and found it, strong and regular.

"Merlin?" he pinched his servant's ear, he seemed to remember that from what Gaius had told him about seeing if someone was unconscious. Merlin didn't even flinch. Arthur frowned in confused. The boy was breathing and he had a strong heart beat so what had happened? Why had he collapsed? The prince was surprised once again by his worry for the young sorcerer. Dismissing this alarming realisation, Arthur favoured slinging his friend's body over his shoulder and heading up to the castle in search of the physician. Maybe he would know what was going on.

* * *

He could see the world! Camelot was stretched out before him and beyond that there were trees, hills, lakes and even mountains still within his vision. And they were so sharp, so focussed; it was like being a colourful dream where everything was so vivid it didn't seem real. He was sure that he could even see the goats grazing on the mountain side.

Not only could he see but he could hear the steady thrum of his wings. His wings? They didn't belong to him, they belonged to Elsu. He was in Elsu's body – sharing it with the animal. He could feel the foreign sounding heartbeat of the bird and could understand the emotions that passed through the falcon's brain. Somehow Merlin had managed to transport his mind, his soul, into Elsu. It seemed impossible but what he was experiencing now proved it wasn't.

Elsu moved into a swoop, his arched wings cutting through the air like a blade, his feathers flat against his body. Merlin could feel all this and it unnerved him but at the same time it was exhilarating. The merlin flapped his wings and rose silently higher, his eyes scanning the countryside. And the boy who shared his gaze did the same, drinking in the scenery like a thirsty man: the grey brick houses, the thick carpets of trees, the green acres of land dotted here and there with sheep and cattle. What he could observe from this viewpoint was almost overwhelming.

The bird picked up speed, skimming through the sky, he had caught sight of something with his awesome vision: the larks and swallows were out and they zoomed carelessly through the air, playing on little eddies of hot air that rose from the earth. The wild animals were yet to pick up the presence of the swift approaching grey-blue falcon. Elsu was small but he was courageous and Merlin knew, he could feel it in fact, that the merlin would not give up until he had one of those juicy little bodies in his beak.

With a keen eye, Elsu picked out the easiest target, a swallow that had strayed to the outer edges of the flock. This swallow was a youngster, barely older than the predator that stalked him, and was yet to learn that staying close together was the key to survival. The miniscule brown speckled bird was about to be taught the hard way – maybe even at the price of his life.

Within the falcon Merlin was in turmoil. He didn't wish to watch this murder. He understood this would be Elsu's first kill and that the falcon was a bird of prey whose natural instinct was to attack, slaughter and eat. However, he didn't really want to witness the slick assassination that his merlin would no doubt carry out. Instead he tried to figure out a way to escape his feathery prison. There must've been something he'd done to get him here in the first place so how could he reverse it? Merlin concentrated very hard.

* * *

"He's awake!" a voice cried.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive, his nose twitched, if he doesn't open his eyes now he's faking it." The voice belonged to Arthur.

Merlin decided to crack open his eyes rather than face the consequences of not. As soon as he did this he was aware of an acute throbbing pain in his head. He felt like he'd been bludgeoned with a very heavy wooden club or, alternatively, trampled by a stampede of horses. By the time he'd fought down the agony he could just about focus on the prince who was staring at him. "See, I told you! Good to see you've finally returned to the land of the living, Merlin."

"Huh?" Merlin found his throat was parched and he coughed drily. "Water?" Quickly he felt the cold solid edge of a cup on his lips and cool water trickled into his mouth. It was bliss. Once he'd recovered, Merlin looked at his friend with bewildered eyes. "Why the hell does my head hurt so much? Did you sit on it?"

Arthur had the pride to look indignant but the contentment to add a sparkle of teasing to his offended expression. He was relieved that Merlin was awake and there seemed to be no ill effects of the bash to his skull.

"I did not sit on your big head, no," the prince retorted, "In fact I carried you into the castle when you fainted like a handmaiden and whacked your head on a rock."

"I'm glad you're glad I'm better, Arthur," Merlin grinned, his eyes twinkling with mirth. "And thanks."

"No problem." Usually Arthur revelled in praise, practically swam in approval, but from his manservant it was different. The thank you was from Merlin's heart and he didn't give that kind of praise very often. Arthur had only experienced his commendation once before when the prince had ridden out to get the cure for a poison. It filled him with a warm tingly feeling that was unfamiliar and not all unwelcome. "Well, I best be going. By the way, Elsu is with Gwen, she caught him awhile back and is looking after him. He had killed this swallow and was enjoying tearing its innards out all over the King's throne. Can you believe that? The little devil!"

"I think I'm going to be sick." Merlin had turned an unnatural shade of green. He was having flashbacks.

"Don't do it on me. These are the only clothes I have that are clean at the moment considering there is a pile waiting for you to take to the washerwoman." Arthur jumped back and then, with a final bid of farewell, left the room.

"Here, Merlin." Gaius leapt to his rescue with a wooden bucket so that the warlock could empty the contents of his rebelling stomach. "Are you okay now? Is this nausea something to do with your head injury?" The old man's eyes were full of concern as he watched the boy – who was the closest to a son he would ever get – wretch again.

"No, Gaius," astonishingly the manservant still had the ability to chuckle, "This is because I was there when Elsu attacked that swallow."

"Oh. What?"

"It's a long story that I don't think even I understand and I was there."

"But you were here," the physician frowned.

"That's why it's complicated."

* * *

Deep in the heart of a dark cave a woman, if you could call her that, laughed. Her icy blue eyes glittering with malice as she stared into a pool of clear mirror-like water. Behind her there was the sound of a man crying - a pitiful, heartbreaking whimpering.


	6. The Trader

**Thanks to ****Lady Clark-Weasley of Books, Ikchen, Hogaboom and Siany-T! Whoop I'm going to Cardiff so no more updates for a bit!**

The boy ran; his heart pounding; his blood rushing in his ears. His whole body shook with terror like a young sapling in a storm. Leaves and soil churned beneath his feet with each step as he flew across the ground. The forest whipped past him in a green-brown blur, occasionally extending tendrils of brambles or branches that ripped and tore at his clothes and skin. But the boy ignored the snagging pains, his mind was focussed on the running and that was it – there was no space for hurt.

Around him the trees were gnarled and twisted like wizened old men bent out of shape. They seemed to leer at him, casting ghastly shadows across the earthy floor, arching right up over his head and blocking out the moonlight. The boy couldn't even see a single star through the dense foliage despite it being a clear night. He felt impossibly alone.

A ghost of an owl hoot reached his ears, quietened by the suffocating silence of the deadened trees. It was nice to know that something was alive in such a horrifying place even if the bird that made the call sounded very far away. The boy was reassured because it meant he had not stepped into another world – yet.

The cave appeared before him like a great gaping mouth; a gash in the surface of the earth. If he was to describe it, the boy would say it looked like the entrance to hell itself. He slowed to a halt, his crunching footfalls quietening as he approached more tentatively. Now he was here he found he wanted to go back. But he couldn't, that wasn't an option, he was here to help. With his pulse thudding through his veins, the boy braved the entrance….and leapt back; terrified, as massive black wave surged over him.

The cloud swarmed past him like a torrent of water but did not hit him. Instead the river of darkness whistled by barely missing his body. It was then he realised that they were bats, thousands of bats flying out of the cave. They were so close he could feel the beat of their wings, the softness of their fur. But these bats weren't the only thing to come out from the mouth of the cave; a big shadowy figure stumbled towards him.

Scrambling to escape the stream of flying mammals the boy recognised the limping gait of the stranger and had to stifle a shout of relief. Instead he battled his way to the outer edge of the gush and into fresh, clear air. The figure followed.

"Father!" The boy's voice was breathless but pleased.

"We must escape!" The man barely acknowledged the boy, pushing past him roughly and heading off into the night.

"But Father!"

"Not now boy, there is no time." And then the pair vanished into the forest.

* * *

_Thwack. _The arrow thudded straight into the bull's eye of the target, the shaft shuddering with the impact. Another arrow followed in quick succession, not quite so accurate but still within the yellow.

Two young men lowered their weapons and smiled at one another – one slightly smugger than the other. The tallest of the couple had thick shiny golden hair and the other a dull mud brown that fell over his eyes. He was more bulky than the blonde, lacking the athleticism and sinuous physique.

"Ah think you'll find that I beat you again, Johannas," Arthur said, his tone arrogant.

"Just," Johannas replied, heading towards the archery target to retrieve his arrows. As he reached the first he realised that the feathers had been knocked out of place and sighed, annoyed. That would mean repairing this tail or fletching a new one. He noticed with a feeling of bitterness that none of Prince Arthur's arrows were damaged – not even bent.

"Yes, but just still counts. Fancy a rematch tomorrow?"

"Not particularly." Johannas hated playing the prince, he was just too skilled to beat and it was very degrading to lose time and time again.

"Ah, well, I suppose I'll have to ask Heddan if he wants to take me on. Now where is my servant? Merlin?" Arthur looked around, the manservant had promised to be there when they finished to pack away the equipment but he was no where to be seen. "Merlin!"

Just then the gates of the castle wall opened with a deafening creak and that caught both boys' attention. Arthur's head snapped round, his eyes focussed on the entrance and the guards who were operating the system. He hadn't heard of any visitors they were having today so why were the guards opening the gate without consulting him or the King? In irritation the prince began to stride towards the port cullis just as two figures entered.

One of the figures was tall and muscular, his broad shoulders shrouded in a murky brown cloak whilst the other was small and slender, he could be no more than a child of twelve maybe thirteen years old. Both shared the same unusual bronze coloured hair. Arthur wasn't sure if he'd ever seen such a vivid colour before. He noticed that the older of the two walked with an awkward limp.

"Who goes there?" he called, puffing out his chest with authority. The man looked at him with an almost blank, emotionless expression before his face broke into a smile.

"Prince Arthur?!" his voice was strong with a powerful undercurrent.

"Yes, I am he," Arthur replied, curtly.

"Why don't you just say 'Yes, that's me'?" there was a murmur by his ear and the prince was startled to see Merlin standing beside him, a wry smile on his lips.

"Good!" the man lurched forward, his hand outstretched in a gesture of friendliness, "My name is Fabien." The prince took the proffered hand.

"Good day to you. May I ask what your business here is?"

"Ah, my lord, my son and I come to the castle in search of trade. I am a trader."

"Of what?"

"Anything," Fabien gestured with his arms to demonstrate his point, "If you have something I want or I have something you want then I am willing to strike a deal. Unfortunately your rather paranoid guards forced me to leave my wagon of wares outside with my poor horse that is in dire need of a drink and a rest. We have travelled many miles to be here."

"I think you will have to talk to my father, King Uther. Come, I will show you the way. Merlin, can you fetch their wagon and stable their horse."

* * *

As Merlin approached the tethered horse, it was sweating quite badly and its head with hung low to the ground – a sign of exhaustion. The animal was still attached to a large wooden wagon which was jammed full of objects. There was furniture: chairs carved with beautiful figures on the legs; a table with a painted surface; a large engraved oak chest; and a splendid mirror outlined with an intricately crafted frame made of wood but with ingrained threads of gold and studs of jewels. Merlin was astonished that Fabien would leave such a thing with no protection. However, as he reached out to run a finger along the surface the warlock realised his mistake. A pair of snapping jaws sprung out of nowhere so fast that he only just had time to pull his limb back. The ferocious eyes of a dog met his with such malice that he was certain for a moment that a demon possessed the animal. But then the moment passed and the canine was normal once more – just a guard dog – his hackles raised and teeth bared, protecting his master's treasures.

"Well hello to you too, boy," Merlin gasped, getting over his surprise. The demon dog continued to stare at him with wary eyes. It growled, low in its throat. "I won't touch your stuff, okay? I'm just taking you to a safer place." He moved away from the animal, back towards where the horse was tethered and untied the rope. Then he began leading the tired beast into the castle grounds.

Once the animal was unharnessed and placed in a stable, Merlin decided to deal with a wagon and the satanic canine. He was unnerved by the never ending gaze of the animal. Its expression as it stared at him was almost human – like it had conscious thought. Merlin stared back, his sapphire eyes piercing the brown pools of the creature. He wondered, after his experience with Elsu, whether he could move into this dog's body – not that he particularly wanted to – but it would be interesting to try. Just as he was contemplating the decision he heard something.

"I see you've met, Guardian." The boy who had been with Fabien stood behind Merlin. This was the first time the magician had really looked at the youth. He was skinny, as stated before, with hands and feet that looked too big for his small frame. Although he did look older than Merlin had first thought, maybe fifteen. His was skin was as white as snow; it looked particularly unnatural in contrast to his russet hair. Dressed in a green tunic and brown trousers the boy, despite being malnourished, looked reasonably well off. That must be thanks to his father's trade.

"Guardian? I guess that's appropriate," Merlin half laughed, "He nearly had my hand off when I tried to move the wagon."

"Yeah, he can be a bit vicious. That's only recently though, when he was younger he was friendlier."

"Puppies usually are."

"No," the boy shook his head, "Its only recently he changed after….Well anyway, what's your name?"

Merlin pondered the child's abrupt change of subject but decided to ignore it. He doubted whether it was very important.

"Merlin," he said. "What's yours?"

"Bedi," the youth replied, "Short for Bedivere."


	7. The Mirror

**Back from Cardiff. Was pretty cool. Stayed with my sister in her house with her uni friends. :) **

**Managed to watch Merlin and - I may be the only one strange enough to notice - but didnt Merlin change his scarf like five times? It was odd. Anyhoo, cant wait til Saturday!**

**Thanks to ****Lady Clark-Weasley of Books****, ****Ikchen****, ****Glittery-excuse-for-a Fae****, ****xXStephRheaXx**** and Siany-T for reviewing the last chapter! Sorry this chapter is quite short!**

The two of them shook hands, it was an oddly formal gesture, and they both felt quite awkward. It was then that Merlin was reminded of his job as he spotted Arthur striding across the yard towards him. He was aware he probably looked idle and hurriedly jerked to attention, trying to look as if he was doing something. Bedivere looked at him, perplexed.

Arthur reached them, brushing his blonde locks out of his eyes, and staring at Merlin with raised brows. His expression was unreadable.

"So, Merlin…finished?" His voice was amused – the manservant relaxed, knowing by the tone he wasn't in too much trouble.

"Yes, sire, I was just coming to find you when…."

"You decided to have a little happy chat, I get it and it doesn't matter. Anyway, my father is interested in Fabien's wares and wants the wagon unpacked in the Great Hall."

"He does?" Merlin groaned inwardly, looking at the heavy cart laden with furniture and then at the horse he'd just stabled. How was he supposed to get the stuff up into the Great Hall without breaking his back?

"Yes, so chop, chop, Merlin," Arthur grinned and headed back up to the castle, a smug look on his face.

"I'll help," Bedivere offered.

Merlin inspected the puny boy; his arms were so skinny they looked as though they could break at any moment, the manservant was sure there were no muscles to speak of. Still, the child had been kind in offering his help so Merlin should acknowledge him by accepting it.

He gestured for Bedi to come round the other side of the cart and then the pair lifted the handle and began pulling. They moved slowly but the young warlock was surprised by the youngster's actual strength, he was definitely pulling his weight – what little there was of it – and Merlin wasn't feeling too much strain on his shoulder. Soon they were only about a foot away from the castle door and the older boy set down his side of the cart handle bringing the wagon to an abrupt halt.

"Let's stop here. We can carry the stuff in."

* * *

After a lot of heaving and lugging and dragging, Merlin and Bedivere had brought the entire contents of the wagon into the castle and laid it out in the Great Hall. The tradesman's son had instructed the servant on how to lay it all out perfectly so it looked professional and accessible. Now all they had to do was slump onto a couple of chairs and wipe their sweaty brows before the King and his party entered. Merlin assumed they had held the meeting in the throne room. It was not long before Uther appeared, Arthur and Fabien with him. His eyes widened when he saw the treasures before him – his gaze immediately was captured by the precious mirror, glinting in the sunlight that flooded into the room. Even Arthur looked impressed and he wasn't usually one to care for trinkets and such preferring his weapons.

Fabien immediately stepped into the role of tradesman, leaping to stand beside his son and facing his potential clients. A huge charming grin spread across his face. Merlin was sure his teeth sparkled.

"Your Majesty, I present to you my wares. I have accumulated all these wonderful objects through years of travelling and trading in several hundred countries. I come to you now and ask you to take your pick." Fabien gestured for the King to browse his collection. Uther wasn't about to decline the offer heading straight for the mirror. "Anyone else in the room may also peruse at their will but the King gets first choice." Suddenly the entire assortment was surrounded by people. Merlin had to battle his way out of the crowd if he wanted any breathing space. Once at the edge of the flock he could survey the scene properly.

Uther was still staring at the magnificent mirror in front of him, a hungry look in his grey-blue eyes. The warlock could tell immediately that the King wanted this mirror and would do anything to acquire it. To be honest, Merlin couldn't blame him; there was something enchanting about it. It was obvious Fabien had noticed his majesty's interest because he had sidled over to him and was muttering something in the King's ear. Then the man turned to his subjects and called over the hubbub, "I ask you all to leave now so I can share a private word with the tradesman. I am sure you can come back later if you wish to trade anything." There was an almost silent collective groan as the group shuffled from the room until only Uther, Fabien, Bedivere, Arthur and Merlin were left. The manservant wasn't sure if he should leave but none of them had noticed him in his shadowy corner behind the columns so he stayed to watch.

"What do you want for the mirror? One hundred gold pieces?"

"No."

"One hundred and twenty?"

"No."

"One hundred and fifty?"

"No, my lord…"

"_Two hundred_ gold pieces and that is my final offer."

"My lord, you do not understand, I say no because I do not want money," Fabien smiled, "I give you this mirror to you as a gift. All I ask in return is that you allow me to stay in your castle for a few days so that my son and I can recuperate before moving on."

"Y-You are giving me this mirror for _nothing_?" Uther sounded incredulous. He was expecting to pay even more than he'd offered. To him the mirror looked priceless.

"Well not nothing exactly," Fabien paused, a strange expression creeping onto his face before he quickly schooled it, "As I said I wish for your hospitality in return."

"Sure, that is fine. That is excellent. I look forward to having you around for a bit," the King of Camelot clapped his hands together, "Well, I am sure you must be hungry. Let us eat."

"Of course....I am famished." The party left the room. Merlin slipped out quickly after before the doors could be locked on him. He didn't fancy having to explain to Arthur why he couldn't do any of his duties as he was trapped in the room after practically spying on a private exchange. He was glad to see that the guards hadn't yet arrived to protect the place from thieves. The warlock hurried down the corridor towards Gaius' chambers. He needed to check on Elsu.

In the empty hall the clear surface of the mirror rippled.


	8. The Wall

**Thanks to ****Ikchen****, ****Glittery-excuse-for-a Fae****, ****Lady Clark-Weasley of Books****, ****Lozrii****, ****xXStephRheaXx**** and Siany-T for their kind comments and encouragement. This chapter is for you guys!**

Elsu sped through the air like an arrow, his body sleek and streamlined. He changed direction suddenly, whistling up towards the clouds until his outline was so small it looked no bigger than a pinprick. Merlin squinted after him, shielding his eyes from the glare of the sun. He felt like a worried parent; he didn't want Elsu travelling that high in case he fell prey to a bigger bird and Merlin could do nothing about it. He willed the falcon to come back down.

At the same time as this anxiety the boy was itching to try sharing Elsu's body once more. The image he had of Camelot from a bird's eye view was fading fast and he didn't want to lose the vividness and accuracy – he wanted to remember every single detail from the colour of the horses in the farthest field to the flowers growing outside the front door of a peasant's house. He could barely recall what fruit a trader had been selling on his stall at the market: was it apples or pears?

But before he could even think about the things he would see again he would have to work out how to transfer his mind into the animal. Last time it had just happened, he hadn't said anything but he'd just moved into the merlin's body. Merlin tried to think back to that day, focussing on every little detail. He had _wanted _to see what Elsu saw, he remembered that, but could merely _wanting _to do something make it happen? It didn't seem likely. Still, it was worth a try.

The warlock concentrated on wanting to see what Elsu was viewing, he willed himself to once again observe the world through a falcon's eyes. Nothing happened. He concentrated further, closing his eyes.

"Why have you got your face screwed up as if you can't pass wind?"

Merlin's eyes snapped open. In front of him stood an amused looking boy, his lips curled in a crooked smile. His bronze hair ruffled in the light breeze, glinting with coppery tints.

"I-I was concentrating!" The sorcerer defended himself.

"On what? Alchemy?"

"No," Merlin said but revealed no more preferring to change subject - quickly. "How are your lodgings?"

"Better than we've ever had before." The boy slumped down on a low stone wall; his legs sprawled out before him. "I mean, in this place our closet is practically as big as my old room."

"I thought you travelled?" Merlin queried, dropping down beside Bedivere and running a hand through his hair.

"Not always. When I was a very little baby my mother insisted that they stopped travelling and find a cottage. So Father sold the majority of his wares to buy this house. I don't remember much of it except my room and the fact it was made of this yellow stone, it was beautiful – used to sparkle in the sun. We lived there until I was about five but then my mother died and Father decided it was time to move on."

"How did your mother die? If you don't mind me asking?"

"I don't remember," the youth shrugged, "One day she was there and the next my father told me she'd gone to heaven."

"Oh."

"He hates talking about her, it hurts him." Bedivere kicked the wall with his heel, scattering shards of grey stone everywhere. Merlin looked sadly at the boy, it sounded like Bedi was still mourning even now because his mother's death had never been properly explained to him. If his father wouldn't even talk about her that must be hard. Merlin loved his own mother dearly, he didn't know what he would do if she ever died. He may have left her to come here but that was her choice and he'd do anything for her.

"Argh!" Bedivere yelped loudly as there was a flurry of movement. He waved his arms in the air and jerked his legs which caused him to lose his balance and fall backwards off the wall. He hit the ground with a heavy thud. Merlin grabbed the thing that was causing the chaos straight out of the air and scolded him before diving to Bedi's aid.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just a bit bruised," the boy said sitting up and rubbing his back, "What was that?!"

"You mean this?" Merlin looked sheepish as he held the thing in his hands up. A beady eye regarded Bedivere with contempt – in Elsu's mind the boy had caused all the trouble, flapping around like an infantile bird that couldn't fly. Ridiculous.

"Is that a falcon?" Standing up, the adolescent inspected the animal more closely, taking in the smooth slate blue wings and the patterned face. It had a creamy chest speckled with brown smudges and amber eyes that seemed to see right through him.

"He's a merlin which is a type of falcon. His name is Elsu."

"You named him?" The boy sounded incredulous.

"I know, it's a bit strange naming a bird but Gwen insisted and…"

"But he's _yours_! You own a bird!" Bedivere was in awe of the dark haired man in front of him.

"Hardly. He does what he wants; I just feed him and give him shelter." At that moment Elsu wriggled free of Merlin's grip and as if to contradict what the boy had just said fluttered up his arm and landed delicately on his shoulder. Then he nibbled his ear gently. The sorcerer's eyebrows shot up in amazement – Elsu had never displayed such affection. However, Bedivere was convinced by the action that Merlin could control the falcon.

"Wow. That is so brilliant!"

"He's never done that before…."

"Wait until I tell Father! He loves seeing things like this! He used to collect animals that were unique." With that the boy ran off. Merlin gawked after him, the youth's words only just registering what Bedivere had suggested. He wanted his father to buy Elsu off him. There was no way that was going to happen.

* * *

Merlin went to bed that night feeling rather apprehensive – he was so edgy that he couldn't even sleep. He kept thinking that the enigmatic tradesman would come and steal Elsu whilst he snoozed. It was a ridiculous idea: why would Fabien ever want to take a bird? But even so Merlin was still wary, he didn't really trust the man, there was something _wrong _about him. When they'd met in the dining hall this evening the man had given Merlin such a strange look, it looked as if he wanted to kill him with his bare hands. Then it passed. Still, it had unnerved the young magician.

The said falcon was currently roosting, perched on a shelf to Merlin's right – nearer the window. His eyes were closed and his feathers shimmered in the bluish glow cast by the half moon outside. The beams of ghostly light caressed all his contours, picking out the lighter shades of his feathers from the dark and outlining his small hooked beak. Despite its shape, in the soft illumination, the beak did not look cruel; it did not look like it was capable of ripping the guts from another living creature. A barely visible tremor ran from the top of Elsu's head to his tail; his foot twitched involuntarily. Merlin smiled slightly, wondering what he was dreaming of – if birds could dream.

Finally at peace with himself, knowing that his merlin was in no danger and enjoying an undisturbed kip, the warlock fell into a deep slumber.

* * *

"Merlin? Merlin! Merlin come quickly!"

The young man shifted beneath his covers, aware that someone was calling him but not wanting to move from the warm nest that was his bed. However, the calling grew more insistent and louder, suggesting the speaker was coming closer. Suddenly the door burst open and a messenger boy barrelled in.

"Merlin! Wake up! The Prince is missing!"


	9. The Search

**Thanks to ****Lady Clark-Weasley of Books****, ****Glittery-excuse-for-a Fae****, ****Ikchen****, ****Lozrii**** and Siany-T! Loved the episode just gone but Merlin was a bit naive in not sensing anything wrong with Arthur's initial infatuation. Loved the random log he dropped on that bloke though. **

"I do not understand it! I do not understand!" The king continued to pace back and forth across the floor, his heavy footfalls echoing around the hall. "There were guards! No one could have got in! Not one of them saw a thing. How can _no one _see a thing? And he didn't leave on his own that's for certain, all his things are still here. Why would he leave anyway? It makes no sense!" A couple of dozen eyes followed his relentless movement, all expecting him to explode at any moment. The vein in his temple was throbbing and that was always a bad sign.

When King Uther had checked on his son that morning he had discovered the bed empty and cold. There was no sign it had been slept in. That meant that Arthur must have vanished before he had a chance to go to bed, after the feast. There were no other clues to his disappearance.

"Do any of you have anything to say for yourselves? Any reason why Prince Arthur has been taken from beneath your noses?" The spectators had been waiting for the explosion and they were not disappointed. Fortunately they had braced themselves for the onslaught. "Are there _any _witnesses?" Uther was going in circles but he was not aware of it, he was too panicked, too scared. His only son had seemingly been abducted.

Merlin stood at the back of the crowd trying to be inconspicuous. He was sure that he would be primarily to blame for Arthur's kidnap because he was supposed to be his protector after all – his body guard. He really didn't want to face Uther's wrath. Despite that he really needed to know what was going on if he was to find out what had happened to Arthur.

"My lord." The voice was so quiet it was almost lost beneath the King's ranting. Someone pushed the speaker forward, egging her on. She shuffled into Uther's line of sight reluctantly. He paused when he caught sight of her quivering frame.

"Yes?!"

"My lord, I believe I may have been the last person to see Prince Arthur before he vanished." The girl could be no more than about sixteen with mousey brown hair and a pale face. Her eyes watered as she faced the ruler of Camelot.

"Where? When?" The man charged forward and grabbed the maid by the shoulders, shaking her as if he could shake the information from her. One of the spectators from the crowd stepped forward and told Uther to calm down before he hurt the mere child. The King complied, staring instead at the girl with fierce eyes. "_Tell _me!"

"Last night, around one o'clock in the morning, I was running an errand for the head servant – we were tidying up after the feast – and I bumped into Prince Arthur. He was quite drunk. He asked me to take him to the Great Hall. I did, of course. Then he just stumbled in and shut the doors behind him. I don't know what happened after that but I didn't want to hang about so I…left him. I'm sorry, my lord, if anything happened to him…" The maid trailed off looked ashamed of herself, her eyes downcast as a single frightened tear trickled down her cheek. Merlin couldn't help but feel sorry for her as she cowered, trembling on the spot, she must be petrified. He was glad it was not him to blame for once but sympathetic all the same.

King Uther looked left and right his eyes darting into every corner of the big room, searching the shadows as if Arthur would be hiding there waiting to jump out and shout 'tricked you!' or, at the very least, be passed out in a drunken stupor. Not surprisingly, he wasn't. Merlin's gaze followed the King's but then strayed, wandering over the stone walls before falling to rest on the tall mirror leaning against one of the colonnades. It glinted in the morning sunlight and then something moved within it. Merlin blinked and looked once more but there was no movement. He must have imagined it – he was too tired.

"I want you all to leave," Uther suddenly stated, "Guards, begin to search the villages and fields. Find my son. Girl, I will deal with you later." The last sentence addressed to the handmaiden made her squeak with fear. She turned and fled.

Once the hall was emptied the King slumped into his chair and held his head in his hands. He couldn't believe he'd lost his son.

* * *

Merlin waited for Uther to march from the room, hovering in the corridor until he was sure the man was long gone – not likely to come back and interrupt him. Then he slipped silently into the deserted hall. The object of his intentions glittered mysteriously. Tentatively, the warlock approached the mirror and stood square in front of it. He stared into the shiny depths of the mirror seeing a scruffy, black haired boy with wary eyes looking back at him. It wasn't often that Merlin got to see his reflection and he hadn't realised how tall he'd gotten, nor how skinny, and his face had lost all its childish fat to reveal high angular cheek bones. The magician was shocked. And, he now realised, his ears were huge!

Plucking at his ears feebly, as if they would shrink with a bit of tweaking, Merlin tried to ignore his own reflection and look at the mirror properly. There was something weird about the object – now he was so close Merlin could sense it. He couldn't _see _it though. To the naked eye the mirror was just an ordinary mirror, albeit extravagantly decorated and undoubtedly expensive. But that was it! It was so obvious now he thought about it! Merlin clapped his hands to his head in amazement at the revelation.

"Merlin?" The voice was soft, questioning. The manservant whipped round realising he was caught. Behind him stood Bedivere; his eyes were pained.

"Bedivere….this mirror…."

"It's strange isn't it?" The boy stepped forward, staring passed Merlin at the mirror.

"Well, yes but…"

"My father's gone, you know. Nobody has noticed. They are too caught up in Prince Arthur's disappearance. It's not surprising really, he is royalty and my father is a mere tradesman. However, if they had thought about it then maybe they would have realised its very suspicious." The way the youth spoke was too mature for his age, as if he was stating some dull facts about crop yields and the weather rather than vital information.

"You mean your father has taken Arthur?" Merlin asked, forgetting his previous ideas for a second.

"Not exactly. It's hard to explain, even I don't understand," Bedivere replied. He wandered over to the edge of the room and sat on a discarded chair, his eyes never leaving the golden mirror. He looked tense.

Merlin could tell that the boy was in turmoil, his mind fighting a battle with itself and if the warlock wanted to get any information out of Bedi then he would have to go slowly and tread carefully. The adolescent was ready to talk; he just needed to open the gate. Padding quietly over to Bedivere's side, Merlin leant casually against the wall and looked at him expectantly. His expression was encouraging. The fifteen year old observed him for a minute or two and then, seeming to have made his decision, began to speak.

"There was this woman. My father met her one day; she just appeared out of nowhere. I have to say she was the most beautiful lady I have ever seen; she had these blue eyes that kind of trapped you with their intensity – they were so bright – and she had dark brown almost black hair. Really shiny. I wasn't surprised my father was completely taken with her, who wouldn't be? And the weird thing was she seemed to _really _like him. She flirted and laughed at all his rubbish jokes. Eventually, when it came for us to leave, she followed us and it sort of became official that they were a couple. Father loved showing her off to every man he met.

Anyway, cutting a long story short, they fell in love – well actually I think my father fell in love. He even proposed to her. That's when things got nasty. She began to do these vile things; she killed my puppy right in front of my eyes. Told me that I wouldn't be needing him. That made me terrified for Guardian's life so I kept him by my side all the time, never let him out of my sight, but somehow she got to him. I woke up one morning and knew he was different; he wasn't my faithful companion anymore.

Father barely noticed though, he was too caught up in marrying her. They would go away for these long periods of time and leave me with the wagon. At first I thought they were doing…you know….man and woman business but then I heard of these murders that had been taking place in every single place we'd been. I reckon they just went out and killed random peasants – for fun! My father was a changed man; he seemed not to be their most of the time, blank and emotionless. Occasionally though, when _she _wasn't there he would have these moments of lucidness. He'd tell me things, really creepy things, like 'she's stealing me, Bedi, she's eating my soul' and 'you have to do something, save me, save everybody, don't let me do it'. None of it made sense and the next thing I knew he was in love with her again. He denied he'd said anything.

I couldn't do anything; I couldn't leave my father in the hands of this _witch_, I had to do what he'd told me and save him. But then they vanished, one night without warning. I searched everywhere; the villages, the fields, the towns until I found my father's brooch on the edge of the Black Forest. You know the place? Anyway, it's the scariest place in the land, I reckon. But I had to go in and find my father. I kept finding these little clues, trinkets that belonged to Father: a ring, a slip of material, a deliberate footprint in the mud. I followed the trail. Then it brought me to The Cave. I thought the forest was frightening but this was something else. It was the gates to Hell itself.

I was all set to go in, certain Father was in there, but then he came out, on his own, and told me we had to go. So we did. Ever since then….well, things have been the same but different somehow. Father seems to be his old self but sometimes I'm sure he's not all there – like before." The boy finished his tale, a guilty expression on his face, like he had done something terribly wrong. Then he added vehemently. "That mirror belonged to _her._"

Merlin rocked back on his heels, more than a little shocked. He had a fairly good idea who this woman was and what had happened to Arthur. But what to do now? And how to reassure, Bedivere? The youth looked stricken. Maybe the best thing to do was to tell him what he thought.

"Bedivere," the magician began, "I think that that woman was called Nimueh – the evil sorceress that King Uther detests – and I think she enchanted your father into doing all those things. I think she let him go and sent him here to get Arthur. Also, I think that this mirror somehow has something to do with the abduction." As Merlin finished speaking he pushed himself off the wall with his shoulder and strode over to the mirror. When he reached the front he lifted his arm and touched the gleaming surface with his fingertips. The glass was cool and hard beneath his pads. If the boy had been expecting anything to happen, it didn't.


	10. The Discovery

**Thanks to ****Glittery-excuse-for-a Fae****, ****Ikchen****, Siany-T, ****xXStephRheaXx**** and ****Lady Clark-Weasley of Books****. Love getting your reviews. It makes it all worthwhile. X**

Merlin scrutinised the mirror. He was certain it had something to do with Arthur's disappearance. If he could not work out _how _it had something to do with it, however, then the search could progress no further. He shouldn't have been foolish enough to think that just by touching it everything would be revealed – that was childish and naïve.

The warlock's eyes traced the details on the frame, following the winding paths and branches of the golden engravings. Once again he tried to look passed the superficial outside of the frame – ignoring the dazzling jewels and gems – to focus purely on the material they were studded into. It was then he noticed. Had you not been looking very closely like he was (his nose almost touching the surface) then you would not have seen the tiny inscriptions carved delicately into the frame encircling the sapphires and diamonds. To a normal person – even on closer inspection – they would look like a scrawling pattern but Merlin knew exactly what they said. They were incantations.

His heart quickening with excitement Merlin began to read, his voice soft and rasping as his lips twisted round the syllables. He completely forgot who was in the room with him, concentrating purely on the spell. And then the mirror rippled. A tremor slithered across the surface like a wave of water. Merlin grinned.

"What did you do? What did you _say_?" An awed squeak came from behind him – there was an undertone of fear in the voice however.

"I-nothing, I didn't do anything!" Merlin denied everything as usual but this time knowing it truly was fruitless.

"The mirror….it's changed. You made it do that!" Bedivere stepped closer to magician and the mirror. Merlin was surprised, he'd always thought that if anyone found out about him they would scream and run away or at the very least step _back _from him.

"I…" the young man tried again but was interrupted.

"There's a room! On the other side of the mirror there is a room!" The boy was pointing now, running towards the object with eager eyes. Merlin shifted in front of him, halting his trajectory before he could career straight into the mirror.

"_Don't _touch it!" The sorcerer grabbed Bedivere's outstretched hand and pulled it away. He couldn't explain why he didn't want the tradesman's son to touch it but he just _knew_.

"I wasn't going to," Bedi lied, grabbing his arm back. Merlin raised his eyebrows but said nothing. Instead he turned to the front of the mirror once more and saw what Bedivere had meant.

The mirror was now a window and Bedivere had been right to some extent, there was another place on the other side that was certainly not the hall they were in, but it wasn't a room it was a cave. The cave was lit with flickering torches; they cast grotesque shadows on the dark walls. It was very difficult to see anything else but from what Merlin _could _make out there was a strange looking altar in the centre. Merlin was sure that in that cave was where he would find Arthur, Fabien and, most likely, Nimueh.

"Merlin," Bedivere sounded unsure of himself, "Did you do magic? Did you make that cave appear? If you did I won't tell, I promise!" The boy was earnest in his promise. Merlin stared at him for a second, pondering his sincerity. This was the child related to the man who had most likely abducted Prince Arthur, but that wasn't his fault and he'd been nothing but helpful so far.

"It may have been," the warlock shrugged, noncommittally. He reached out and touched the glass but this time he felt his fingers sink through the surface as if parting water. It was a portal.

"Merlin!" Bedivere raised his voice, his voice tinged with surprise.

"Look, it's not what you think…it's not bad. I don't do evil…"

"No, Merlin, I don't care about that, look." The manservant followed Bedivere's gaze. In the high window at the edge of the hall there was a bird. This was not any old bird though, this was a falcon.

"Elsu!" the warlock breathed as the merlin fluttered down from his perch by the open window and landed elegantly on the top of the mirror, completely unperturbed by anything magical or dangerous about it. Elsu watched him expectantly, cooing gently in the back of his throat.

That was then the idea struck him. It was so reckless that he wasn't sure it was worth it at first but it would certainly give him the element of surprise and maybe help his plight in the long run. Without thinking it through any further Merlin turned to Bedivere with adrenaline fuelled eyes and offer him a grim smile.

"This is going to sound odd but first….do you trust me?"

"With my life," the boy answered immediately with such complete seriousness it shocked Merlin. How could this Bedi trust him so implicitly already?

"Okay then, um…well anyway," the magician moved on swiftly, "I can do magic as you saw but there's this other thing I can do, its hard to explain. It involves Elsu and well…" The young man paused, thinking about his wording carefully. "I sort of move my mind into his body and travel with him. That sounds absurd I know. My actual body stays behind though, unconscious. I'm going to transfer into Elsu before going in there and I want you to stay here and protect my body. Barricade the door so no one comes in."

"What? How am I supposed to explain myself if I'm caught?" Bedivere asked, skipping straight over the fact Merlin had admitted he was a warlock and could transform into animals, and moving to practicalities.

"You'll think of something, I'm sure." And with that Merlin collapsed.

Bedivere had not expected the plan to go into action quite so suddenly and jumped in surprise, diving to the fallen man's aid. It was only then he remembered what Merlin had said about unconsciousness. This was meant to be happening. He looked for Elsu and saw the blue and black tail feathers of the falcon disappearing through the mirror. The bird was gone and Merlin with him.

Hurrying to drag the body to one side, Bedivere dumped the manservant behind the colonnades and set about blocking up the great double doors which were the entrance to the hall. He used chairs – the king's own throne even – and a table which took a lot of heaving. Fortunately a lot of his father's wares had been left behind and they were very useful. Once he was sure the door was secure the boy settled down to wait.

* * *

Elsu's wings were inaudible to human ears as they swept him through the passage that led from cavern. He dodged the stalactites and stalagmites that jutted out like jagged teeth waiting to impale his soft vulnerable body. His eyesight was so impeccable that it was barely a challenge for him. Nevertheless, the boy trapped inside of him was less than calm. At every close shave with an obstacle his metaphorical heart leapt and his blood raced. It was terrifying. There was nothing he could really do to stop the sickening rollercoaster either. The falcon was in control for now, this was his domain. When things slowed down Merlin would try and regain a bit of control and channel his thoughts into Elsu's so the bird did what he wanted.

After awhile they reached an opening, as the narrow corridor opened into a large cavern, not dissimilar to the one that house the dragon at the castle. The place was vast and echoing. Inside the falcon Merlin felt ridiculously puny; especially when he caught sight of the cloaked figure standing across the space from him. It had its back to him, crouching over what seemed to be another form slumped against the wall. A flaming torch illuminated the body's head suddenly, revealing a flash of gold. It was Arthur.

Merlin desperately wanted to lurch forward and save him but knew that would be pointless. He'd come here as Elsu to act as a scout, to get his bearings and find out what exactly was going on. Instead of flying towards the cloaked figure Elsu retreated higher up into the ceiling of the cave to find a safe perch on which to watch.

"Hungry? Thirsty? Want to die yet?" The voice was malicious – and masculine.

"Leave me alone." Merlin hadn't realised Arthur was conscious but by the sound of his strong voice he was. "Why don't you just get it over with and kill me?"

"Because that would defeat the object of this exercise."

"What exercise?! I don't understand you!" Arthur sounded exasperated. "Why have you abducted me if you don't actually want me?"

"Oh we want you, Arthur, but you are just the lure; the trap to bait a much larger fish." Once again the prince's face was lit up by a torch and it was twisted with frustration and confusion.

"What fish?"

"A fish that is more important than _you,_ Prince Arthur of Camelot. Does that shock you?" This voice was different, definitely feminine. It echoed through the entire chamber so Merlin had no idea where it was coming from. The words seemed to come from everywhere. Nimueh had come.

"I don't…" Arthur was frowning now, disconcerted.

"Understand? Of course you don't. There's really only one person who can explain it properly to you and you know what? He's here with us right now. Isn't that right, _Merlin?_!" The last word came out as a menacing hiss and Merlin jerked as Nimueh appeared in the base of the cave her intense blue eyes fixed on him. Her mouth moved quickly and the magician knew she was casting a spell. Before he could do anything to retaliate Merlin felt a searing pain envelop Elsu's body. Everything went cold. He felt the falcon writhing around him, spasms ripped through his wings. Around the bird's body a glowing green light danced. It weaved and wound through the air creating a mesh – a cage - Merlin realised too late.

Within the cage Elsu was lifted up and floated down towards the Nimueh – he still thrashed in pain. The shimmering ball came to halt midair between Nimueh and Arthur. The other person was Fabien, his lips twisted in a sadistic smile.

"Merlin, how nice of you to drop by and in such a _clever _way." The sorceress reached out with a pale slender arm and passed her hand through the cage to stroke the shuddering bird. "It wasn't clever enough to trick me though, was it? And don't think you can escape; my spell has bound you together. You are trapped there."

Arthur had watched the evil witch summon the falcon out of the dark abyss above him and had immediately recognised the distinctive colourings of Elsu. He could not understand how the bird had ended up in the cave but that hardly mattered. What was more perplexing was the fact that Nimueh was talking to the animal as if it could comprehend her speech, as if it were human. That made no sense. And why on earth was she calling him merlin? That may be his species but Arthur didn't go round calling people 'human' so why should she?

"His name's Elsu," the prince spoke out, his tone fierce and annoyed.

"Oh…" the sorceress turned an amused gaze on him, "I don't think so."

* * *

There was a violent rapping on the door, it was getting louder and so were the shouts. Bedivere could feel his pulse quicken and his blood rushed in his ears, deafening him. He felt physically sick with fear. When Merlin had said think of something he really hadn't thought it through. The King would surely kill him for this. There was nothing he could do to explain the situation without mentioning magic after all.

As the pile of furniture barricading the door quaked ominously, the boy backed further to the other end of the hall, his eyes trained on the entrance, waiting for it to burst open. There was only one thing he could do really. With one last glance to make sure Merlin's body was safely stowed away, Bedivere turned and stepped into the mirror.


	11. The Disbelief

**Thanks to ****Lady Clark-Weasley of Books****, ****Glittery-excuse-for-a Fae****, ****Ikchen****, Siany-T and Hogaboom! Sorry I took so long to update! Been busy with owrk experience. Ooh, I feel so greedy! I ate ten chocolate chip biscuits! I was soo hungry!** **I'm gonna get fat. :( Still, on a happier note! Merlin is on in two days and it looks fab!**

Gwen waited somewhat quietly as the guards bashed down the huge wooden doors to the Great Hall; patience was usually her virtue but today that was not the case, today someone she liked – someone she even loved – could be in danger. The handmaiden shifted restlessly from foot to foot as, with one final whack, the doors fell open and there was a massive clattering as the pile of furniture behind them tumbled. The three guards hurried in first bidding her to stay still for safety. She didn't listen however, rushing passed them.

The hall was empty. This obviously surprised the guards and not just her. Why on earth would the doors be barricaded if there was no one inside to barricade them? It made little sense. Not only that but she was sure this was where she would find Merlin. Another servant had informed her he'd seen the boy slip into the room earlier on in the day. So why wasn't he here now?

Her brown eyes scanned the entire area anxiously, hoping to see _something, anything_! And that was when she did. A pale hand stuck out from behind one of the pillars. She gasped and practically sprinted over, picking up her skirts in a very inelegant way. As she grew closer she saw the hand was attached to an arm clad in a very familiar material which led onto a torso on which was the head of…

"Merlin!" she breathed in horror. His face was horribly white, like snow, and his eyes were closed. The handmaiden crouched by his prone form and shook him gently. He did not rouse. His head flopped limply to the ground and she quickly leant forward to cradle it, worried the drop would hurt his neck. "Please, Merlin, wake up!" She felt his pulse – it thumped steadily.

"Stand back, girl." A heavy hand dropped on her shoulder and pulled her back.

"No, sir, I need to help him," Gwen protested, turning to the guards, terrified they would take her away from the boy.

"I know. Let me lift him up and I'll take him to the physician." The man offered her a friendly smile and the handmaiden breathed a sigh of relief. That was her next step of action but she would never have managed Merlin's weight on her own. She shuffled away, still reluctant to leave her friend's side, and watch the guard scoop the body up with a grunt. Hopefully Gaius would be able to work out what was wrong.

* * *

Nimueh smiled condescendingly at Arthur, as if she was correcting small child on something very simple and basic they'd got wrong. Not surprisingly, her manner was not appreciated by the prince. He glared at her. She chuckled at his expression, ruby red lips perfectly shaped.

"Oh, Arthur, you are amusing," she used her most patronising tone. "Didn't you know? This bird is Merlin."

"Yeah, I know," the prince nodded, raising one eyebrow. Why was she telling him something he knew?

"You do?" For a moment the sorceress looked wrong-footed but then she relaxed back into her calm demeanour. "I don't think you understand, young prince, this bird is not only a species of Merlin but he is your friend, your manservant, Merlin."

It was official; the wicked witch of Camelot had lost it. If she really thought that that falcon was Merlin then she needed her head testing. He couldn't believe she believed it herself let alone trying to get him to believe it. It was absurd.

"Are you kidding?" His incredulous tone of voice didn't hide his disbelief. Once again Nimueh looked shock but rather than returning to neutral after she'd gotten over her surprise her face morphed into one of fury. Arthur would go as far to say she looked livid.

"Do you mock me? Do you not believe my words? How can you not? How can you not see that your manservant is a sorcerer? He used magic to transfer into that falcon and I have trapped him there! Are you so ignorant?"

"Obviously," Arthur snapped, quite offended. There was no way on earth Merlin could possibly understand magic let alone be a _sorcerer _who could claim animals' bodies.

The prince stared at Elsu, confined in the cage and obviously still in pain from whatever Nimueh had cursed him with. Arthur pitied the creature greatly and would like nothing better than to break his bonds and free the falcon. Merlin would never forgive him if any harm came to the bird – it was practically his baby. But he couldn't free himself, not with the vile tradesman standing guard over him, scrutinising his every move. Arthur couldn't believe he'd trusted the man and let him into the castle; he was usually such a good judge of character.

* * *

Merlin was astonished. Arthur completely did not believe anything Nimueh said. The warlock was sure now, short of performing a spell right in front of the prince's eyes, that the other man would never believe him capable of magic. It was both good and bad. Good because then no one could _tell _Arthur that Merlin was a wizard behind his back but bad because the future king of Camelot could not even entertain the idea his clumsy servant was actual a sorcerer. Merlin felt quite insulted. Still, he was not one to hold grudges and decided to be glad of Arthur's disbelief. Right now he needed to focus on escaping.

* * *

Bedivere trod carefully, his leather shoes barely audible on the rocky ground. He could hear people talking. They were up ahead, somewhere in the dark. That was the thing, Bedi had forgotten to bring a torch or any form of light so he was walking in complete blackness – he was blind. It was unnerving to be in the narrow space with no light but the boy persisted with his quest because he didn't want to go back. Firstly, he didn't want to face the King's wrath and secondly he had a funny feeling that Merlin was in trouble. It was some kind of intuition he had.

Plunging farther into the gloom, the tradesman's son braced himself. He was having a horrible flash back to that day in the wood. Except this time, instead of hesitating and turning back, he'd rushed headlong into the unknown; into danger. Bedivere was certain that this cavernous place was the one he had dubbed the gates of hell. He was also sure that at the end of this tunnel he would find the woman he despised - hopefully Merlin and Arthur too. The child didn't even spare a thought for his missing father.

The passageway widened finally and a haze of soft green light illuminated the jagged stone walls. Despite the ominous colour, Bedivere couldn't help feel warmed and excited by the glow. It meant he had almost reached his destination. Creeping up to a rock jutting out from the edge of the cave, he peered round it and stared. Beyond the boulder was a massive chamber full of empty space. It stretched upwards for what seemed like miles. The boy gaped in awe. And then he regained the use of his brain, scanning the lower part of the cavern to take in the people there. Immediately, his gaze sought out Nimueh, then Arthur, then his father but he could not see the Elsu-Merlin creature anywhere.

Getting more desperate in his searching for the warlock, his eyes finally landed on the cage. He was surprised he had not noticed it before considering it was resting so close to him and glowing – this was the object the cast the emerald light – but he guessed that was the reason he had not observed it properly, believing it to be just a lantern. Behind the bars he could just make out the dark silhouette of a bird – a falcon. Bedivere felt his heart leap with anticipation. Merlin may have been caught but he could do something about that. The evil witch had her back turned and was obviously not concentrating on the bird, her attention caught by the sitting form of Prince Arthur. They were deep in conversation. It was time for the youth to act. Maybe it would finally be his chance to save the day.


	12. The Rescue

**Thanks to ****Lady Clark-Weasley of Books****, ****Hogaboom****, ****Ikchen****, ****xXStephRheaXx****, ****you-shall-never-know-me**** and a special thanks to ****llivla**** for such amusing reviews! Not much humour in this chapter. Sorry!**

Elsu was agitated. Although the pain had subsided he still jerked and twitched every second or so. Merlin really didn't blame him; the bird was in shock. Not many creatures could expect to experience that much agony and torture in the first few months of life – and survive it. The warlock was proud of his animal companion but he wished that he'd never put him in this situation in the first place. He couldn't believe he'd been so stupid as to think that Nimueh wouldn't realise he was in Elsu; she was such a powerful sorceress that she probably knew he could do it before he did. So, because of Merlin's stupidity, the two of them – man and bird – were now bonded together in one body completely and utterly helpless.

Racking his brains, Merlin tried to come up with a plan, anything that would allow him to either return to his own body or escape as Elsu. The problem was that as a bird he could not speak and therefore he could not say the words of a spell; it was physically impossible. But, he told himself - the revelation long coming – as this gifted warlock destined for great things, as he'd been told many times, he didn't always have to perform magic with his mouth. Sometimes all he had to do was react on instinct. And what was his instinct telling him to do now? Escape…

* * *

Bedivere was now upon the cage, his light footedness had allowed him to get almost unbearably close to Nimueh's evil presence but yet she still hadn't noticed. Forcing himself to breathe quietly and steadily and bidding his galloping heart to be silent, the boy reached out towards the shining green bars. Then the bird inside turned. The look in its eyes was so strong yet wrought with agony that Bedivere almost fled. He was sure that those piercingly intelligent eyes were trying to tell him something important but he could not decipher what. The falcon's irises grew impossibly big and his whole frame shook. Merlin obviously didn't want him touching the cage. The boy backed away slowly. So much for saving the day.

Just then the bars of the prison began to shift, bending outwards like a great gaping mouth. Bedivere expected the metal to be shrieking in protest but the movement was silent. Soon the gap was big enough for the small falcon to slip through, and it did. The squeeze looked awkward – the bird's wings twisted at strange angles – but he was through. The tradesman's son smiled with relief. This relief was short lived however as the merlin shot towards Nimueh, practically dive-bombing onto her head. Then Elsu proceeded to rake mercilessly at her head. Bedivere guessed, hoped, that this was the animalistic side of the falcon coming out rather than Merlin's doing.

In this time, Bedivere realised he was meant to act. He darted passed the witch and the falcon who were now fighting viciously towards were Prince Arthur lay shackled and guarded by Fabien. Up to this point the youth had not given a thought to his father but now, seeing him so close, the boy had to think twice. The tradesman had taken up a defensive stance, a dagger that had come from nowhere in his hand. His face was full of malice as he lunged. Bedivere took that as a signal, this was no longer his father; Fabien's mind had been warped beyond recognition. He was now just Nimueh's lovesick drone who would do her bidding to the death.

Aptly, the youngster leapt to the left, flinging himself out of the path of the sharp weapon. He hit the floor hard and rolled before flying to his feet once more. Then, unarmed, he faced his attacker. They circled for a moment, oblivious to the other battle raging just a few metres away, eyeing their opponents up. Fabien lurched forward again, attempting to slam the dagger into his son's stomach. He missed – just. Bedivere was terrified, his heart pounded in his ears, but he had to win this fight: for Merlin, for Arthur, for Camelot.

Thinking quickly, the boy calculated the man's weaknesses and his strengths. Obviously he had the weapon and he was much bigger and stronger but that made him slower. If Bedivere could use his agility to get the blade of his father then he may have a chance of winning.

Bedivere feinted to one side and then the other. This served its purpose in wrong footing and confusing his opponent. The boy then dived round the large form of Fabien and leapt on his back. From there he reached forward and plucked the dagger from his father's unsuspecting hand. Fabien began bucking and lashing out wildly, Bedi found it was like trying to ride an unbroken horse who just wanted to unseat you. He held on for dear life. There was only one way to finish this; one way he could win. Taking a deep breath, the young boy closed his eyes and plunged the blade straight through his father's back. Fabien toppled like a felled tree.

Barely giving himself enough time to think about the fact he'd just murdered his own father, Bedivere climbed off the now prone form of Fabien and hurried over to Arthur. When he discovered that the young man was shackled he returned to the dead man's side and rummaged in his pockets. As he did this he found the dagger still in his grip; the tip glistening oily black in the dim lighting, a warm substance dribbled down the handle and onto his skin. Suddenly he felt very sick.

"Are you okay? Have you found the keys?" Arthur called over to him, noticing how still the boy had gone – almost like a statue. He desperately wanted to escape his bonds and drive a sword straight through Nimueh's heart. Glancing over to the said woman now he saw that little Elsu was giving the sorceress a run for her money. He was astonished that the animal hadn't already fled. Why on earth would he be fighting a human? What was in it for him? Arthur refused to believe that Elsu was doing it out of loyalty to him that was ridiculous, only Merlin would do something that stupid. And there came that entertaining idea once more that Merlin _was _Elsu. But that was ludicrous…wasn't it?

"I've got them," Bedivere threw down the disgusting weapon and grabbed the keys from his father's pocket. He could still feel the warmth emanating from the corpse but Fabien was definitely dead, the boy had felt for a pulse. Then he stumbled over to the imprisoned prince to set him free.

Once Arthur had use of his hands and feet again he felt he could do something worthwhile. Looking around on the ground he searched for the dagger the boy had previously discarded. As he thought that he realised that he didn't even know the child's name. He hadn't bothered to ask at the castle, not deeming a tradesman's son worthy of his attention, but the youth had just saved his life by killing his own father. That should surely earn him some merit. It should also earn him the chance of getting out of here alive, Arthur realised. The mission he had wanted to undertake was suicidal and that was unfair on the youngster. He could continue this fight some other time; Nimueh wasn't going anywhere after all.

"What's your name?" the prince asked, quickly.

"Oh…um, Bedivere, my lord," Bedivere stammered, startled by the sudden change of subject.

"Okay, Bedivere, we're going to get out of here, _alive_." Arthur nodded more to himself than his young rescuer and began to run; making sure that the boy was following. The two of them careered passed the warring sorceress. Arthur barely noticed that she didn't even spare him a second glance, he'd served his purpose after all and she had who she wanted right within her sights.

In the dark, narrow tunnel again, Arthur found that he did not know which direction to go. The winding passages all looked endless and the same. Bedivere obviously noticed his hesitation and stepped forward.

"I believe it is that way, Prince Arthur."


	13. The Escape

**Thanks to ****Lozrii****, ****Hogaboom****, ****Skoellya**** and ****xXStephRheaXx**

**I love the fact they brought in Emrys and Mordred! **

**Just for those who haven't realised yet or don't know the Arthurian legends, I just wanted to clarify. Bedivere is not exactly an OC. I didn't create the name. You can research if you want but I won't give any more away.**

Merlin had seen Arthur and Bedivere escape safely and knew it was time for him to leave. In his current form all he could do was claw and scratch the witch, Nimueh, as she through spell after spell at him. Fortunately, in his falcon form he seemed to be super fast and dodged many of her curses. A few hit but seemed to have little affect, none that he could feel anyway.

With a spiralling dive towards Nimueh's feet, the warlock confused the sorceress enough to give him time to dart away. He skimmed along the rocky ground, so close the floor that he could feel the stone brushing Elsu's under feathers. The falcon shot through the black hole that led to freedom. Behind him he could hear the furious scream of a beaten witch. Merlin was sure she would seek revenge for such humiliation but he hoped it wouldn't be too soon. He needed time to work out the current predicament he had landed himself in – trapped in a bird's body.

* * *

Arthur and Bedivere literally fell through the mirror, landing in an awkward heap on the other side. They scrambled swiftly apart and climbed to their feet, dusting themselves down. Then, as one, the pair stared back into the glass surface from which they had just come. Arthur looked shocked, Bedivere looked worried.

"What about Elsu?"

"What about him?" Arthur frowned, turning away – he needed to find his father. "He's just a bird." Although it hurt him to say it, Arthur knew that was the truth. They could not really risk their lives for an animal.

"You don't understand. Its not just Elsu in there it's…" Bedi never finished his sentence because at that moment the mirror rippled and something small and dark shot out. Arthur grabbed the boy by the arm and pulled him back out of harm's way. For all they knew the thing could be sent by Nimueh. However, once the blur stopped, Bedivere gasped with relief. Elsu had escaped.

With a huge grin, the youth ran over to where the bird had landed on a window sill and reached out to stroke the animal. As his long, slender fingers brushed along the smooth feathers he felt Elsu shudder under his touch. The animal hadn't completely recovered from its ordeal.

"How on earth did he escape Nimueh? Do you think she's following?" Arthur looked warily back into the portal. Bedivere did the same but what he saw, and the prince didn't, was that Elsu gave the mirror a fierce stare and the glass stopped shimmering like disturbed water. The gate to the cave had closed. And, thank the lord; Nimueh was on the other side – for now.

"I don't know but I'm just glad Merlin's safe," Bedivere said and then realised what he'd allowed to slip out. Arthur offered him a strange look but seemed to pass over his mistake. Instead the prince strode from the room.

* * *

Lying on a bed in the physician's chambers was a body. This body was deathly still and cold. It was so white and lifeless that it could easily be mistaken for a corpse. But it wasn't because the body still had a pulse and, if you looked close enough, it was breathing. Other than those things there was little movement. This was Merlin.

Beside him, keeping a constant vigil was Gwen. She had not left his side since she had found him. Gaius had tried everything to wake him but nothing had worked, the young manservant remained asleep. Morgana had visited once to check on both Merlin and her handmaid – she was worried about Gwen making herself ill. She had joked that Merlin was a male version of the tale of Sleeping Beauty and that Gwen had to kiss him to wake him up. Unsurprisingly the servant had found this unfunny.

The handmaiden just wished that Arthur would return, she held out on the hope that somehow he would have the answer and he would know exactly what to do. They had had no more news of his disappearance and the King was distraught – he was sending out search parties day and night whilst he brooded in his room.

Gwen continued to hold Merlin's icy, pale hand. It was so cold that it hurt her hand but she would not let go. She feared that if she severed the link then the young man would just slip away. She was his anchor.

Suddenly, the door to the room burst open and a boy hurried in. His bronze hair was wild and his face was streaked with dirt and….blood. With wild eyes he searched the area until his gaze fell on the girl and the man in the bed. Gwen had no idea who he was and was unnerved by his rough appearance. She shifted herself slightly, moving in front of Merlin – protecting him.

"Who…?" She began just as the boy began to talk.

"Prince Arthur has returned! He is safe. But what of Merlin? Is he okay? I thought he would have returned to his body by now." The words ran together because of the speed at which the boy spoke and Gwen had difficulty deciphering what he said. She understood that Arthur had returned though and that was brilliant.

"Arthur has returned?!"

"Yes, he has. He's talking to the King right now."

"And who are you?" Gwen asked.

"Oh, sorry, we haven't met. I'm Bedivere. I am…_was _Fabien's son."

"Fabien? The trader?"

"Yes," the boy's excited demeanour seemed to have sobered up and his voice had less enthusiasm.

"Oh."

"So is Merlin awake yet?"

"Yet? I'm not sure whether he's ever going to wake up," Gwen sounded disheartened.

"Well he should, Elsu escaped so really he should be back…." Bedivere halted. Magic was forbidden in Camelot and if he kept blabbing about Merlin being able to transfer into animals' bodies then the poor warlock would be in a lot of trouble. Therefore he would shut up now.

"Elsu escaped? Escaped from what?"

"You don't know? Let me explain what happened."

* * *

At this exact same time Arthur was explaining the entire episode to his father. Uther listened with disbelief and then fury. He could not believe that he had been betrayed by the trader and that he had allowed Nimueh to get so close to killing his one and only son. The thought of Arthur's death actually sickened him.

When the prince talked of the trader's son saving him by murdering his own father, the King was struck first by astonishment at the child's bravery and then his loyalty. Uther would definitely reward the youngster for such an act. Despite the boy being born of a tradesman, the King knew that he was from noble blood. He had recognised the secondary name that Fabien gave him. The man, although treacherous, was the grandson of one of Uther's great friends.

"But you are alright?"

"I am fine, Father," Arthur assured the older man with a nod. "I should go now." The young man began to leave the room. He desperately needed a wash.

"Well that is good. That you are fine, I mean." Uther called after him. "By the way, you may wish to get a new servant." Arthur's neck snapped round so fast it must have hurt.

"_What?!_"

"A new servant. Your old one, what's his name, Matthew, Marlin? Whilst you were gone was struck with a mysterious ailment. He isn't showing any sign of ever getting better according to Gaius."

"His name is Merlin!" The Prince corrected his father angrily and sprinted from the room.


	14. The Waiting

**Thanks to ****Ikchen****, ****myrmidryad****, Hogaboom, ****xXStephRheaXx****, ****Glittery-excuse-for-a Fae**** and ****Lozrii****! I think I may be reaching the end of this story. It is kind of losing pace so the next chapter may be the last. :) **

Merlin was stuck. He was imprisoned in the bird he loved dearly but he didn't particularly wish to share the rest of his life with. Elsu obviously shared his annoyance most likely because he was fed up with the discomfiting intrusion. Merlin could see everything he saw and do all that he did and that was unnerving in itself. Not to mention the fact that the warlock's brain was constantly awhirl with thoughts and ideas and it was hurting the falcon's head terribly. All he was usually concerned with was food, sleep and companionship. Now he was listening to spells and witches and all sorts of things that were of little use to him.

The Merlin/Elsu creature was perched in the rafters of the doctor's quarters overseeing everything that was going on below. It was almost like being a spirit, having an out of body experience. He was seeing himself yet he was sure he was here – if that made any sense. The pair of them surveyed all the comings and goings: Gwen, Gaius, Bedivere, Morgana and finally, much to his surprise, Arthur.

It was not long after they had returned when the young man barrelled into the chambers. On his face was a look that Merlin could _only _describe as frightened. Prince Arthur frightened? That was a first. The manservant never imagined he would see the day that happened. And yet he couldn't actually see what the prince was frightened of. It couldn't be anything physical as there was no danger in the room.

As soon as Arthur caught sight of the corpse-like body in the middle of the space he froze - literally stopped dead. There was an expression of horror plastered on his face but then he somehow managed to school the raw emotions into one of calm indifference as he hurried to the bedside. Currently in the room were Gwen and Gaius, they looked up as he approached. The handmaiden's face lit up with undisguised joy.

"W-What's wrong with him?" The man asked abruptly.

"I don't know, sire," Gaius answered truthfully, his lined features grave. "I have tried every cure I could think of; conducted every test under the sun but I cannot rouse him. I fear he has slipped into a coma and may never wake from it."  
"But how did it _happen_?" Emotion was slowly creeping back into Arthur's strained voice.

"We are not sure, my lord. Young Guinevere found him like this and brought him back. There has been no change since then."

"So he's just going to _stay _like that?"

"I'm afraid so, my lord." There was an unfamiliar catch in Gaius' tone, like he was struggling to breathe properly because he was so wrought with feelings.

Arthur tousled a hand through his blonde hair and blew out, exhaling all the pent up air he'd been unknowingly holding. He couldn't quite believe that after all he'd been through Merlin had befallen to some terrible illness or injury that may cause him to remain a vegetable until he starved to death. It seemed unjust. Arthur had truly been looking forward to returning to find his servant and friend safe and sound, if a little worried about his disappearance, so then the prince could tease him about being overly caring. That wouldn't happen now. And it hurt the young man very deep inside him – a dull, throbbing ache.

"_Don't _look like that! He's not dead!" The voice was so filled with anger and passion that Arthur almost jumped backwards, startled. He was faced with the irate expression of Gwen. She was staring at him with such ferocity he was sure she could burn a whole right through his forehead. "You can do something to bring him round, I know it!"

"Me?" Arthur didn't like the way the servant was addressing him and immediately went defensive. "What on earth can I do? I'm no physician. If he does not wake by tomorrow I will get a new servant." The prince hated the callous tone of his voice, it revolted him but he couldn't show weakness or compassion for his servant. Merlin may be one of his friends, his best friend one might say, but he was not important enough to get upset about. Was he?

* * *

Merlin had watched the exchange with sad eyes. He really had no idea what to do to get him out of this predicament. All his ideas were stupid and unsuitable. Not one would ever have a chance of succeeding. They ranged from going back, finding Nimueh and asking/forcing her to free him to flying down and colliding with his own body in the hope that the impact might have affect. Neither practical nor sensible. Therefore he was stumped.

As he perched there in Elsu's body, Merlin couldn't help but think back to the first time he saw the falcon fly and had thought he would do anything to be a bird and be able to see the world from the sky. Now he wished he could change his mind, go back to that day and tell himself no, you don't want to be a bird, it is so restricting and isolating, being human is much better. He couldn't really believe that he'd just thought about wanting to see what Elsu was seeing and then he had. Merlin also remembered his initial escape from the merlin before he'd killed the sparrow. Back then all he had to do was think himself out and he was. Nimueh had blocked that though, created a mental barrier which he could not get passed. However…

…Merlin was thinking and not actually wanting. Yes, the powerful sorceress may have trapped him somewhat but considering he was destined to be a great wizard then there must be something in his mind that could break through the barrier. Maybe all he needed to do was to want harder, to physically need to be back in his own form and he would be. The warlock decided to give it ago. There wasn't anything to lose after all.

* * *

"I have to go see to Morgana," Gwen stood suddenly shocking both Gaius – who had yet to see her leave the unconscious man's side – and Arthur. "Gaius, I believe you need to fulfil an appointment with Mrs Woodcock in the village."

"Um…" the old physician looked confused, "Then who will look after…"

"Arthur can keep watch for us. You don't have anything to do, my lord, do you? It will only be for half an hour or so." The handmaiden stared pleadingly into the prince's eyes.

"I-I…um…."

"Good! We will be back soon." With that Gwen grabbed Gaius by the arm and steered him swiftly from the room before Arthur had any time to protest. He gaped after them doing a fairly accurate impression of a fish out of water.

Eventually, realising there was no way he could leave an ill man's side, Arthur sat down reluctantly. He hated being there, it wasn't because he didn't like or care for Merlin but it was because he did. In truth he was slightly scared. Scared of the fact that his loyal manservant was sick and may not get better. Still, he had to stay here and keep his unconscious friend company.

Gwen had lied. Neither she nor Gaius were back in half an hour and the time of absence was fast approaching an hour. The young prince hated sitting in silence and had taken to talking to Merlin. He may not be able to hear anything he was saying but it really didn't matter.

It was as he was telling Merlin exactly how useless he was at hunting that something changed. Arthur couldn't put his finger on what exactly had changed but he could feel it. All the hair stood up on the back of his neck and his spine tingled. There was another ethereal presence in the room, he was certain. The man looked round uneasily. What was going on? He wasn't frightened exactly, more disconcerted. Arthur didn't like not knowing.

There was sharp intake of breath. The prince's ears pricked up and he swivelled back round to stare at the physician's bed. A pair of disorientated, ocean blue eyes stared back.

"Merlin!"

"Arthur," Merlin croaked in reply.

"You're awake." The prince looked astonished.

"It would seem so." The manservant said as he began levering himself off the bed.

"But…what happened?" At this point Arthur had stood up and without a word pushed the other man firmly back down. This was no time for him to go wondering around. Merlin observed his master for a second. There was no way he would ever tell the prince what had happened. He would just have to lie. Besides, he barely knew what happened himself.

"I don't know," the boy shrugged.

"Oh well that's just great," Arthur shook his head. The colour was beginning to return to his friend's ashen face. He was pretty sure he would be all right. "You don't know _how _you ended up unconscious. It just _happened_! And whilst you were having your extended nap I was fighting a witch with just a boy and a bird. A fat lot of use you are as a servant."

"Sorry," Merlin half smiled at the prince's sarcastic rant. Arthur paused for a second, looking at the pallid boy, and sighed.

"I am glad you are okay though, Merlin, you know that, right?"

"I think so."


	15. The End

**Okay, this is the last chapter. Thanks to everybody for their support. I really hope you enjoyed my story and would be kind enough to give a final review as an overview!**

"I knight you, Sir Bedivere of Camelot."

King Uther stood in the centre of the Great Hall with a sword in one hand which he gently pressed onto either shoulder of the kneeling boy. Despite being so young the youth had definitely earned his reward. He even seemed to have grown bigger in the time since he arrived – more confident and even muscular – if that was possible. Bedivere rose to a massive round of applause. In the crowd were Merlin and Arthur.

"I don't get it. How come _he _gets a knighthood when I've saved you a million times?" Merlin crossed his arms in frustration, his forehead wrinkling.

"Oh come on, Merlin, what do you expect? You are a servant. Besides you've never saved my life by killing your own father. That takes guts."

"I happen to have liked my father," Merlin began as Arthur laughed.

"Well, maybe you should have been awake and you could've helped him in the rescue," the prince informed him and moved off to congratulate the boy.

"You don't know the half of it," the warlock grumbled indignantly.

Something landed on his shoulder, talons gripped his skin gently. Elsu had appeared. He seemed to be enjoying his freedom once more. Now he didn't have Merlin in his head practically ordering him where to fly and how to behave. He probably hoped Merlin would never dabble in animal magic again. The sorcerer was pretty certain he could guarantee the falcon that he wouldn't. Yes, he had enjoyed some of the aspects of being a bird but he never, ever wanted to be trapped again. That was something he could live without.

"I'm not surprised they don't give _you _a knighthood as well. You had just as much a hand in the rescue as Bedivere did. Well sort of. I suppose you couldn't have actually undone Arthur's shackles on your own." The merlin made an odd sound, almost like a chuckle, before launching into the air again. Merlin stared after him for a second before walking off himself to join the festivities.

* * *

In the depths of the dark cave in the centre of the forest a woman gazed once more into the bottom of a basin. The water inside was clear and still, giving her a vivid picture of three boys: one blonde, one black, one bronze haired. All three were laughing and smiling together. These were her enemies, the people who alone could destroy her. She couldn't believe she'd allowed them all to get away unscathed.

With a cry of anger, she brought her fist down on the smooth surface and obliterated the happy image. It infuriated her. They did not deserve to be joyful; they should all be dead or mourning. Especially Merlin, the warlock should have perished today at her hand but he hadn't, even in bird form he had evaded her. And he still continued to be at Prince Arthur's side, protecting and guiding him.

She _must _destroy him. Not yet though. Now was not the time. Waiting was the key.

* * *

Night had fallen on the kingdom of Camelot and the majority of the population had settled down to sleep. The castle was an exception however. Its inhabitants partied into the evening, rejoicing the safe return of their future king and the knighthood of his brave saviour. There was feasting, singing, dancing and entertainment; Uther seemed to have gone all out – something he did not often do.

Merlin, who did not usually agree with wild parties, was actually enjoying himself. Arthur had drunk too much alcohol to give him any coherent orders so the manservant had free reign. The young man had even been allowed to join in the prince's conversations. Not that they were really conversations, just lots of lewd jokes and innuendos. Lady Morgana had wandered by at some point but had left immediately once she heard their topic of choice – disgusted. Men could be so despicable.

At around midnight the majority of people had crawled to bed, dragging those who were completely incapacitated with them. There were few left in the Great Hall – excluding the unconscious – mostly slumped on chairs and talking. Merlin, Arthur and Bedivere were some of the few. They'd drawn up seats and now sat in a small semi circle, sagging with tiredness but refusing to make their way to bed. None of them were quite sure what they were actually discussing and in the morning they would remember none of it. It didn't matter though; it was nice to get to know one another.

As he listened to the two other boys, Arthur surveyed them casually. It was strange, this time last year he would never have thought that he would be sitting here – enjoying himself – and talking to his _servant _and a fifteen year old boy. Still, the prince was certain he'd changed a lot. He'd dismissed his old crowd not that long ago, they hadn't really been great friends anyway, they just followed him because of who he was. All of them were ignorant and arrogant – probably how other people would've have described him back then. However, as said, Arthur had definitely changed for the better. He had Merlin to thank for that.

Looking at the lanky, raven-haired servant you wouldn't think he could do anything to change a spoilt boy such as Arthur but he had somehow managed it. He had taught the prince what it meant to be loyal and kind and caring. Merlin had always been courageous but not in the way that was obvious. He stood up for what he believed but only when it really matter, not just for the hell of it. The prince would now class him as a hero. Not that he would _ever _tell Merlin that.

"Earth to Arthur," an amused voice brought the king-to-be out of his reverie. Arthur blinked and tried to focus. He saw a half smile curling on Merlin's lips. "Tired? Have Bedi and I worn you out?"

"No! I could go another ten rounds of cider and stay up at least another day or two before you could ever wear me out." The man was quick to boast.

"All right then." Bedivere leapt up and almost toppled over. He had never drunk so much in his life. "Let me get some more drinks. Then we can really if you're telling the truth." The youth tottered off to the banquet table. He returned a few minutes later with an armful of green bottles. "Drink!"

* * *

The sun rose over the hills casting a warm glow on the sleepy city. A few early risers were wandering out of their homes: filling water buckets, lighting stoves, chopping wood and feeding the animals. A hungry cow lowed in its shelter, searching for food.

Up at the castle, Morgana had awakened earlier than usual, feeling oddly refreshed considering her late night, and dressed. Gwen had brought her breakfast from the kitchens. As the handmaiden set the tray of bread and fruit down on the lady's table she smirked to herself. The king's ward noticed.

"What's so funny?" she asked curiously.

"Oh…well, I'm not sure I should tell you."

"You can't say that and then not tell me, Gwen, that's torture!" Morgana slapped her friend gently on the shoulder in mock annoyance.

"How about I show you instead?"

"Okay."

* * *

The pair of girls tiptoed down the large stone staircase so as not to disturb anyone and Gwen beckoned for her mistress to go after her. Morgana followed, full of anticipation. They reached the large oak doors to the Great Hall and the servant girl pushed them open quietly. She then gestured for the Lady to enter.

The sight that met the noblewoman's eyes made her let out a small gasp of surprise. In the big room was the devastation left by last night's festivities: tables and chairs upturned, food strewn on the floor and up the walls, sleeping people lying in random places. But what really caught her attention was in the centre of the room. Three familiar bodies were sprawled there, piled together in a jumbled mass of limbs. Although the position on the floor couldn't have been comfortable the boys looked completely at peace with the world. Each had an innocent, angelic expression on their sleeping face.

"Oh, aren't they adorable?!" Morgana giggled, referring to Arthur's position especially. He was lying with his head on Merlin's shoulder, golden spikes of hair brushing at the underside of the manservant's chin. Obviously the younger man was a very comfortable pillow for him because he was smiling in his sleep. The young warlock had his arm thrown across the prince's chest in a very protective manner. Bedivere was curled in a foetal ball on Arthur's other side, looking very much like a cat who'd found the perfect nest.

"I know. I think they must have passed out last night," Gwen chuckled.

"But you know what would make this scene even better?" The King's ward said a sudden wicked glint in her eye.

"What?"

"Water!"


End file.
